THE MESSAGE

Now there's a SMILE! My youngest rug rat, Tao, still wearing his breakfast at 5:30 AM!!


The big, bad monster was holding their brother hostage. The two super heroes jumped it! With much ferocious growling from the monster, and screams and giggles from the attackers, bodies were thrown here and there, pell-mell, fortunately landing on the soft mattress or bouncing onto forgiving couch cushions. The superheroes’ mother walked in from work and ended the scene. The monster, although enjoying herself immensely, realized that muscles and bones were going to hurt later...the interruption was appreciated.


It was 7:00 AM. After hugs and kisses, I headed for home to doggies who were as energetic at that time in morning as were the rug rats I had just left. The rain didn’t deter the beasts from insisting on a morning romp, so I donned raincoat over jeans over p.j.’s, and outside we went. The phone was already ringing when we entered the house an hour later. The work day had begun.


‘Complete rest!’ the doc had said.


Right.


She was talking to the wrong person. Not only I am no longer in a position financially to do nothing at all, but it would drive me up a wall; send me completely around the bend. So I compromised. I decided to do more of what I LIKED to do. Work was cut down; babysitting the rug rats while the parents did shift work stayed...as did the doggies, of course.


What else? I have to write more. It’s another thing I enjoy doing. And sleep when I feel the need. And cook – then eat as regularly as possible.


My recipe for curing burnout: Take 3 young lads aged 6 and 4 and 1; add 2 rambunctious doggies; throw in some wild playing, some long walks outside, some caring friends and family; stir it all together. While it simmers, tell a couple of civil servants to take a hike (politely), some deadbeat clients to do the same, sit out in the sun, read some good books....and remember why you’re here.


Having long ago despaired of possessing any particular talent to offer this world, I had decided my ‘purpose for being’ was to be Happy; the capital letter deliberate. Happiness spreads – there is nothing quite as contagious as a sincere smile, emphasis on the word ‘sincere’, and there is nothing more fulfilling (to me) than to see a sad and/or angry expression react in surprise, watch the light come into eyes, and an answering smile shine through. You know that you have helped that person a little; handed him/her a touch of joy. It’s my favorite rush.


My dilemma was that in spite of knowing this, my state of mind would not permit me to act. My recipe wasn’t working. Then I received the message.


It was late Thursday afternoon. My Cuban Suzie and I were shuffling papers in my home office when the dogs began to bark; the ‘Beware-stranger-come now!’ noise. Standing on the stairs, but careful to stay behind the gate out of the reach of the noisy animals, was a man waving a paper. Another bailiff – the third I had seen in the past month. My ex-partner’s fiasco was landing on my doorstep.


Suzie was just leaving, and I caught the sympathy in her eyes as she hugged me goodbye. I felt any energy drain away. Alone now with the doggies, I threw the paper on the table without reading it, then numbly grabbed a beer from the fridge. ...and let my mind slide into neutral.


I’m not sure when I fell to sleep, but it was early. I woke up around 2 AM, thirsty, but surprisingly rested. It was two coffees later when I steeled myself and picked up the paper to read it. When I saw the file number, composed of 4 numbers and 3 letters, it hit me like a rap on the head. I stared, then started to laugh. I couldn’t wait to make calls in the morning.


The female lawyer’s voice was quite ‘official’ when I reached her. I told her who I was, advised her that I had received her papers, and I’m sure she couldn’t help but hear the glee in my voice when I offered to read her the file number. She probably thought I was drunk, although it was only 10 AM.


“Number xxxxxx,” I said. “And that is followed by the letters, GOD!” I laughed into the phone. “Now, ma’am, I know I’m ahead on this one with such a file number!! What could anyone possibly do to me?”


Maybe it was my delight, or was it her astonishment when confirming the file reference which, she told me, is computer generated? Whatever – it set the mood for our conversation, and we hung up with her affirmation that things would be looked into.... both of us still laughing.


The next five calls I made were ones I had been putting off for similar reasons. Although the special file number was not part of those conversations, my attitude remained the same, with the result that each conversation ended in laughter too. There were no exceptions.


I am not religious, but I am spiritual. I had been praying for a boot in the butt to get me out of that desperate grey hole where I’ve been living lately. My answer was delivered instead with humor – from the least likely place one would expect it – with a bailiff yet!!! Instead of a boot, it was a gentle shove....and a huge SMILE!


I’m still SMILING, and sharing it with y’all!!


Luv from the Bush in Quebec.

AND THE WINNER IS....

My grandson is a linesman; he works on those huge towers that are strung out across our country to supply electricity. He’s leaving for Alberta, so will be away for more than a month at a time, coming home for a couple of days now and then until the job in that area is done. It’s great experience for him, but this M’mère is going to miss him like crazy, and not only because of all the muscle tasks he does around here. After more than a year of lads coming in and out of the house, it will seem very quiet.

My daughter (his mom) organised a supper for him yesterday evening, wanting us all together before Fred’s departure. We were supposed to meet at the restaurant for 6:30 or 7:00 PM. I mumbled something about the Habs playing against Detroit so, typical of my family, the time was changed to 5:30 – I would be home in time for the first period! And I was!! And what a game! I won’t elaborate, because they were playing Sam444’s favourite, and she was kind enough to be happy for my win.

I’m very vocal when the Habs score a goal. There’s a rather loud ‘Whoop-whoop!!’ which comes out part yell, part scream, and this is usually accompanied by a little jig. Grump is used to it, of course, and often joins me for the dance. I had forgotten about my poor, little, un-initiated Smooch.

The puppy was playing around at my feet when the first goal happened. I went into action...and Smooch went into panicked flight!! His ears back and his tail between his legs, he scooted into his box and hid there, waiting for whatever terrible action that was sure to follow such a horrifying screech! The expression on his face broke me up ....I giggled until my stomach hurt! After comforting him for a few minutes and coaxing him back out, I continued to watch the game. Another goal! Another celebration! After 5 minutes or so, I realized that Smooch had disappeared once again. Yep, he was back in his box; sitting there quietly, head cocked to one side, listening intently, and probably wondering if it was safe to come out yet. It was hilarious!

Taking care of a puppy, as with any baby, is a lot of extra work, not something I need right now. Yet...when I balance that against the number of SMILES he brings to my face in a day, guess which way the scales tip? I don’t even have to confirm it, do I?

Sending you some of those SMILES, folks. Hope they make your day a little brighter!

Luv from the Bush in Quebec.

THE REALITY IS...

The Smiley Rug-rats

I was what Bird would have called ‘a lost cause’ all day, and most of the night, of the New Year’s Eve. I wept a little, read a little, slept a little, and just ‘timed out’. I never did go for the brandy; I stayed in pyjamas and moved aimlessly from room to room, followed very closely by a confused Grump. I missed the first period of the HABS game, then couldn’t find my Blackberry to do the rest of our regular play by play with Sam444. It was just as well, I guess; I couldn’t seem to focus on the TV anyway. (And surprise, surprise...they lost again!!!)

I had called Suzie; warned her that I was in no shape to party. She understood, of course, and offered to come and stay with me, but I refused. It was alone time that was needed.

I ran out of wood right before midnight and went down to the garage for more. While there, I heard the chimes made by my Blackberry when a text message comes in. Talk about good timing! There is was, lying under my truck; I must have dropped it on Friday evening. If the message had not come in just then, I’d probably have crushed it under the wheels.

Sometimes it doesn’t take much to shake one up. “Wow – lucky!” I was thinking as I bent to pick up the phone. I stood there, wood in one arm, reading the ‘We’ll make it a better New Year – love you!!’ text from my daughter. At the very moment, another came in from my youngest son with a similar message...then another from my older son; he and Yoshiko would be arriving within the hour to share the New Year with me, and to sleep over. There was also a former message from Sam, looking for me when the game had started....and the phone was still chiming, and chiming again....

Love and caring, I mused. I am surrounded by it. I have ALWAYS been surrounded by it, even if it has been by different ways at different times...and from different beings.

In spite of carrying wood, my step was lighter as I went back upstairs. I changed into fresh pyjamas and turned on the coffee. My son showed up a short while later, and we sat, chatting, until 5:30 AM. We talked about Bird, how he had touched our lives. We laughed about Bud’s character, how we missed him too. We reminisced about my mom, my sister, and many others who are not longer here, but close to our hearts just the same. Then we talked about the grandchildren, and Grump, and friends we have made - all new bonds of caring, all precious parts of us now.

We finally went to bed. I knew that in a few hours I would be cuddling my rug-rats, when the family gathered for our opening supper of the New Year. Picturing their impish faces, I was overwhelmed with gratitude. For what I have had, for what is still here, and for whichever way it will come in my future.

I blew Bird a kiss, sent out a hug for Bud, and when I fell to sleep, I’m pretty sure I was still SMILING.

I’m sharing it with you...hope you catch it as it floats by!

Luv from the Bush in Quebec

INTRODUCING...SMILES!

My sister in law, the sweet Lori. What a smile!

The last foster home was a dilly! When we had first arrived there, the lady told me that God had not seen fit to bless her with a child; both Bird and I were soon to find out why. After a few months of her tyranny, we started fighting back – as well as children can – and the problems escalated. When the police became involved, my mom made a momentous decision. She would dump the one boyfriend she had been seeing for years and, I fear, loved deeply, and marry the second. The former wanted nothing to do with her children; the latter would welcome us with open arms.

He and mom showed up one day and took us out of there. The man (we soon were calling him Dad) made us an ‘insta-family’, and within a couple of years, even added a baby brother. We nicknamed the little dude Pody.

The marriage couldn’t work, of course, but strong bonds were created between Dad and us. Even after they split and he left, taking our baby half-brother with him, we kept in touch. And the reason I’m telling you all this is to introduce my little brother, Pody, who has 3 of his own kids now, and his sweet wife, Lori. They live in New Brunswick.

Lori is a pearl from Newfoundland. She is one of the first persons I read on Facebook each day just because she is so upbeat and positive…and funny and, of course, SMILEY!! I think her post this morning on FB can explain it better than I ever could. Here you go:

Before leaving work Friday afternoon, I went in to clean the washrooms. A lady with a little boy walked over as I was going in and asked if we had a change station. I said yes and that I would sanitize it for her first. As I was cleaning she told me that her son hates getting changed on these stations. The little fella was about 14 months old. When I finished she brought him in and I started cleaning the mirror and sink. Then I heard him. The poor little guy started screaming at the top of his lungs. Thinking customers outside may be able to hear him, I started singing hoping it would calm him down.......'The itsy bitsy spider ran up the water spout......Down came the rain and washed the spider out'........The screaming stopped, so I kept singing. I was finishing up with 'Jingle Bells' when they came out of the stall. Mother and son were all smiles. She told me that she's never gotten service like that at a Tim Hortons before.....For those of you who have never heard me sing, I wasn't sure if that was a 'compliment' or a 'complaint'.....She asked if I sang as a hobby (compliment?!?!). We laughed as I told her it must be the bathroom acoustics.

Considering we are short-staffed and I was prepared for the worst this week, my whole week went really well......Lots of happy shiny people, hugs, coffee......and even though the week ended on a 'note' that was a little 'off-key', there were lots of smiles too! :o)

I’m in a rush today. Thanks to Lori, I still had time to post something cheerful!!

Sending my SMILE out to you with hers, folks, and wishing you a great day with many nice surprises - your first being double SMILES here!!!

Luv from the Bush in Quebec

STILL SMILING

When scans showed that the lung tumours are growing in spite of radiation and chemo injections, the doc prescribed an oral chemo called Tarceva. It is terribly expensive but is “the last resort” (the term the doc used). Because Bird was already on a disability pension, the government agreed to pay for it. Bird read over the side effects, and has refused to take it. It is not a cure, but a palliative measure. He has decided to go with dignity; once again the quality of life wins out over the quantity.

In the meantime, we have visited a Naturopath. I read Kevin Trudeau’s books (still growling!), at the suggestion of the Bird, by the way, and have been preparing organic food and juices for the past two weeks. It HAS made a difference. He has more energy, is more alert...just feels all-round better. The Naturopathic doctor suggested injections of Vitamin C and mistletoe. These cannot be done legally in Quebec; only traditional doctors can administer such a thing, so we have made an appointment to have them done in Ottawa. Ontario is more lenient it seems. I made sure to inform his lung specialist who, although disappointed that Bird is not doing the Tarceva, asked us to meet the Homeopathic representative from the hospital just to be certain that any treatment, be it pharmaceutical or organic, is not in conflict with the other. Problem: the injections were to start on Sept. 20th, but the appointment with the hospital rep is on Sept. 27th...which means another delay for time that is already short.

What we are living right now is not easy, nor is it made easier by knowing that others have, and will again, go through the same thing....or worse. However, there are special moments of love, of sharing, of laughter, that would probably not occur during days of ordinary existence, and for that I am grateful. We have been allowed time for a proper goodbye and, as Bird quips “We’ll just take our time saying it, thank you!”

The sense of humour is still intact. When going for a scan of his spine (a tumour has shown up there too), the Bird was wearing his Toronto Maple Leaf cap. The young technician grimaced when he saw it.

“You’re lucky I allow you into my scanning room wearing that hat,” he told Bird. Used to the reaction he gets in this Hab-fevered city, Bird smiled.

“Been waiting for years to see them take the Stanley Cup,” he answered. “Now that I’m dying, they’ll probably get it.”

“Ha!” scoffed the technician. “If that’s what you’re waiting on, you’ll live for another 30 years!”

The Bird winked. “Exactly!” he exclaimed.

And we all SMILED.

SMILES!

Photo courtesy of Photobucket

I needed more weed-eater cord and some gas for the yard machines. The young man cleaning outside was doing a fine job, and I didn’t want his work interrupted by lack of material so, without changing from my very casual ‘working at home’ attire, I jumped into the truck and headed to town. I yelled at him through an open window on the way down the driveway, “I’ll be back in 30 minutes!”

It was only when I arrived at the village limits that it hit me. Today was Tuesday…Flea Market day. As I sat at the side road stop sign, waiting for vehicle after vehicle to crawl slowly by, I knew that there was no way I could do my usual rush around. Driving in our village on Flea Market day is as exasperating as trying to go anywhere in a hurry through city traffic! For many of the area farmers, it is the one day of the week they take the time…and plenty of it….to meander around town, doing all their shopping, or visiting, or treating themselves to a restaurant meal. Add their slow and careful driving to that of hesitant tourists looking for directions and you soon realize you are not going anywhere fast!

Hunched over my steering wheel, spitting and muttering to myself, I begrudgingly waved a thank-you to the courteous driver who stopped and beckoned for me to pull out ahead of him. Both he and his passenger, an elderly lady sporting a straw hat, waved back and...what huge smiles they gave me! Big, warm, cheerful expressions of glee! I blinked, and hardly had time to think about it before I was smiling back at them. My mood immediately lightened, my hands unclenched, and my breathing eased.

It took much longer than normal to reach the Canadian Tire store situated on the other end of town. It was crowded, and there was some negotiating in the people-filled aisles to reach the lawn care section. With my now more relaxed attitude, I noted that many of them were dressed similar to myself; jeans, checked shirt, and runners….and lots of caps or sunhats. No suits or heels here; these were comfortable country clothes.

Another thing most of them were wearing was smiles; smiles as they stopped to casually chat with a neighbor, smiles as they apologized and moved out of someone’s way, smiles as they teased the clerks who were assisting the hunt for that one particular article.

Yep – it was over two hours before I completed the 30 minute errand and could head to my house. The weed-eater had run out of cord, but the enterprising young man had found a pair of shears in the garage, and was trimming the hanging branches in the driveway when I arrived. He ambled over to help me unload the gas cans.

“Sorry,” I said. “It took a little longer than expected.”

“Yeh,” he answered. He’s a local boy, so he knew. “Flea market day.”

Grinning, he held up the shears. “These don’t need gas or cord. No sweat.” Of course not!

I was still musing on this learning experience when I returned to the pile of papers at my desk. This working from home will take some adjusting. No rush. No hassle. No sweat. Plenty of time to SMILE. Delightful!!

Sharing it with you!!

Luv from the Bush in Quebec