Closing Off One Year – Believing in Another

Believing

Believing

Hardship

Hardship (Photo credit: StormKatt)

Well these last few weeks have been filled with challenges for many people I know, including us. This is a wonderful time of year and makes me aware of all our blessings. Sometimes you just have to let life happen and deal the best we can. I have a dear dear friend who believes in dealing with the hand we are dealt and she is one of the most positive people I know.

Regardless of What or Who you believe in, I think Belief is necessary. It is strengthening.  Now anyone who is reading this and is anti-Christian, or Atheist, or agnostic, don’t get your girdles in a knot.  Belief is a very personal matter for each of us; God, Jesus, Creator, Universe, Oneself.  The important thing is that we believe.

Our beliefs give us Hope and Hope is the Life Saver, that allows us to not only survive but to do it well.  Sometimes you just have to hang on to the side of the dingy while it tosses us around on stormy seas.stormy seas

No one gets through life free of strife.  Sometimes we can have a mind set that gets things flowing in a positive peaceful way but most times its just getting through the difficulties.  That’s where faith and hope and belief come in.  Faith in yourself, your own strength.  Faith in a Creator.

Hardship is owned by each of us.  We may go through years of relative calm and then, oops here comes Life.  Belief is our Strength and while I cannot change the path many of us are on I can certainly be there to provide support which doesn’t necessarily ease the pain, but sometimes it eases the mind and/or soul.

There will be better days.  Maybe just not for awhile.  No one can set a time limit on trials and tribulations.  Back in May of ’80 we started with the death of my grandfather.  Thereafter at least every six months for a period of six years we lost many family and friends and most of them too young, way too young.  In that time there were good things, good times, but the shadow remained for a long time.

Since August we have had five deaths of friends and family, we have had lots of illness and upset.  We shall survive and we will do it with good cheer and a healthy dose of gratitude for what we do have and did have.

Life for me remains good and if we did not have pain, how would we recognize that good?  I am not sure how I feel about that last sentence as I am pretty sure I could recognize the good without pain and suffering to contrast it, however I am trying to remain very sporting of this Thing called Life.

 

CERN, God Particle

 

It’s a bright sunny warm morning here on the east mountain and the day is yet to begin for this household as G1 and G2 have not yet arisen, which is somewhat unusual although it could be a carry over from two previous nights of watching fireworks.  Canada is 145 years old and comparatively young compared to the old world but still worthy of celebration.

The first item I spotted in the local rag, The Hamilton Spectator, is that ‘Physicists inch closer to proof of ‘God particle’.

Now I love all things CERN aka the European Organization for Nuclear Research and am especially intrigued by its $10 billion atom smasher, not because I understand it (as posted previously) but because of the intrigue.  CERN exists way underground on the Swiss-French border so there is a certain futuristic weird stuff to the whole idea.  It seems that little Higgs Boson subatomic particle,’that if confirmed could help explain why matter has mass, which combines with gravity to give an object weight.’. HUH??

See what I mean??  To me it seems easily explained and I don’t see where God particles come into this. Though I have no idea  what…well anyway, now this very statement will occupy much of my thinking today. All things CERN tickle my grey cells especially since it reports that scientists have compiled ‘vast’ amounts of data that show the footprint and shadow of the particle.

Well I suppose if one must delve at subatomic levels and spend billions of dollars doing it then good for them.  I suspect people of faith, any faith already know.  (And yes I am not looking for an argument on the existence or non-existence of God). Faith means many things and really that discussion is better left to others.

Rob Roser from the Fermilab in Chicago compared the results to finding ‘the fossilized footprint of a dinosaur saying: ‘You see the footprint and the shadow of the object, but you don’t actually see it.

HUH???  Sounds a little like a barker at a circus, Now you see it!  Now you don’t!

I AM MOM! No really…I AM!

Those of you who know me well, know that I tend to look at things differently.  For me Mothers Day is not a celebration of me, but a chance to honor my children!  For without them, how could I possibly be such a super mommy?   While I do not usually publish family pics, today is special so let me introduce my crew.

My youngest Tom, with G1 and G2 Rowan (left) Caleb (right)

 
Tom posted this on facebook tonight:
I love you and thank you for all you have done.

The love of a mother is beyond compare
One who dearly loves and is always there
From scraped knees
                                                       To falls from trees
                                                       A mother cares for all
                                                       From “I told you so”
                                                        To “That’s a no-no! ”
                                                       A mother answers the call

Heidi (DL)with Rowan a great Mom!

                                        Mothers cook, mothers clean, some even work a job
                          Even with all their strength, a mother still knows how to sob
                                    Mothers should be honored for all they have done
Every day of the year, not just one
There is nothing better than a mother’s love
For her time on this earth   thank  God  above
A mother’s love endures forever
Its unbreakable bonds no on can sever
No matter how much I have grown
My mother’s love is always shown
She has become a mentor and a guide
Within her always I am able to confide
No better payment for her I can find
Then to love her with heart, and with mind
To the one who bore me; I share my emotion
To the one who raised me; Absolute devotion
To this woman I express my joy
You will always be my “mommy” and I your “baby boy”

“Glaedr the poet.”

 
And here below are Ryan and Mary Beth, my son and future DL (by this time next week!)

Ryan and my future DL (wedding is one week from now!)

 So I celebrate my offspring and their chosen partners who by the way may officially be daughters in law, but in this family they are daughters!

It also gives me the perfect chance to show who I blame for my quirkiness, my  wit, my insanity, my screwy humor, cause while they simply received the “crazy” gene, it is much more exacerbated in them, and it is very very very infectious!

See where the smile and silliness comes from?

Baptist Nuns..Once Upon a Time..

Nuns

Baptist Nuns…Once Upon a Time
 
Once upon a time in a land far away..no actually in this very city..I was a little girl. The dinosaurs had just died out leaving more room for people. For they were huge and took up an awful lot of room.
 
TV had just come on the market, ice cream cones were five cents, comic books were a nickel..I think, which is a lot like five cents, and when you got a quarter you were living high on the hog.
 
My house was on Spadina Road just down the street from St. Mary’s Hospital. Yes, my house…when the dinosaurs were gone, there was plenty of room for houses. My street has a lovely boulevard. Well it was almost lovely, marred just a little by a huge metal tower.
 
Anyway it still was quite a lovely street back then, new houses, big yards and. of course the boulevard.
 
In those days nuns lived at the hospital and in the early evening they would stroll down the street. I am not sure how old I was when I first saw them, maybe five, maybe younger.
 
It was love at first sight. Those flowing black gowns, long chains with crosses, the starchy white framing their sweet faces. They seemed to float all angelic like.
 
I knew at that very moment I wanted to be a nun! Over time I heard nun stories about them having to shave their heads and never have money but I didn’t care. I was going to wear the outfit! I was going to be angelic!
 
Of course they never seemed to wear lipstick and that bothered me a tad.
Not that I wore lipstick at five but I knew one day I would.
 
Oh and the other minor glitch? I was Baptist. I had no idea there were no Baptist nuns. Sigh…….

What I Lack….

What I Lack

This was the only choice for me in this challenge.  Mostly because what I lack is so overwhelming.  It all comes down to one thing.  And that one thing is the source of all lackness.

If we lack confidence it is because of IT.
If we lack money it is because of IT.
If we lack happiness it is because of IT.
If we lack beauty it is because of IT.
If we lack peace within it is because of IT.
If we lack wisdom it is because of IT.

I have had IT sporadically but because it comes and goes and I can never hang on to IT I seek IT.  But obviously not with fervor or I would have IT all the time.
I love IT when I have IT.  I hate IT when I don’t.
When I don’t have IT I can never figure a way to get IT.
IT just seems to show up and I revel in the wonderfulness.

Nuts…..if only I could figure IT out?
You can’t beat Willpower!

The House that Built Me

The House That Built Me
Writing Prompt

There was only one house.  Driving past it today I wonder how seven people, one Mom, one Dad and five children cohabited there without death or destruction ensuing.  It had one small bathroom, one tiny kitchen, one living room and three bedrooms.  There was no basement except for a hole excavated a few years later to accommodate an oil furnace.  There were no air ducts – just a couple of vent grates on the floor of each upstairs bedroom.

Today it is a heritage house so declared because of the history of it’s origins. The exterior of this one and a half story wartime house was originally clap board.  The whole street had been built for returning veterans (of the second world war).  They were basic homes and cost my folks three thousand dollars at the time.

It was a young family street with lots of children around the same age. I referred to that in my blog The First Real Snow Storm and the plunking that went on.

The house, my house, sits on a quarter of an acre and all the yards just ran I to each other. Plus there was, is, a boulevard down the middle of the street.  We had plenty of play room.

My earliest memories might seem a little strange or other worldly to some of you youguns but it is all true.

In nineteen fifty-two we were one of the first families to have a TV set.  There were probably only six channels if that.  Black and white of course but there were a few years where some smart marketer sold colored transparent paper that you stuck to the front of the screen.  Ours was pink so we had a pink colored TV.  There was a huge knob on the front of the set and when you  wanted to change channels you actually got up off the sofa and cranked it loudly.

We did not watch much TV.  During the weekday if my Mom was not working she watched the fifteen minute Search For Tomorrow at noon. Saturday afternoons it was Howdy Doody, Roy Rogers and Gene Audrey and Annie Oakley.  Little boys imagined themselves growing up to be cowboys.  Barbies had not been invented but girls had tea sets and porcelain dolls.  Me I was with the boys and wanted to be Annie Oakley.

Sunday nights after church it was Ed Sullivan and I think Edward R Morrow who sat at his desk and puffed on cigarettes while he did his form of investigative journalism.  Of course everyone smoked; on buses, in the movies, in shops…well every where. Later Sunday nights were for Bonanza.  (Cowboys were our heroes then.)

There was a small shed attached to the house where the coal was delivered which fed the only furnace, a coal burning stove that sat in the living room.  Later that room became a laundry utility room when we moved to oil. For years that huge oil tank was part of the rear exterior of our palace.

Upstairs there were two bedrooms – the girls room and the boys room.  From the window of the girls room which overlooked the side lawn the older kids encouraged the younger kids to jump just like the cowboys..out of the window.  It’s a wonder we ever survived but survive we did.

I remember the ice man coming down the street with a horse drawn cart.  He delivered frequently to keep our ice boxes cool. Then the milk man who delivered glass bottles daily during the week.  In the winter the milk would freeze and the little card board lids would pop up.

In this tiny dwelling I learned you can fight and yell and later laugh and live together with love.  I learned one bathroom really was enough (how I don’t know but it must have been because none of us were ever incontinent.). I learned you could read and study and not be bothered by noise.  This has come in handy over the years.  I learned that the kitchen table or the floor was as good as any desk.

I learned and when I think of the house that built me I give thanks.  And now as my eyes fill with tears at those memories and so many more I feel a deep profound homesickness.

Mama’s Losin It Challenge

Of the challenges today I chose posting an old journal. Mama’s losing it did a neat piece on what she does to drive her significant other CRAZY.
I figured it was probably significant that I am without “other” so decided to attack some thing credible.
This was not a post but a poem from my journal on October 2nd, 2010.
This is my day
My gift, unexpected 
But very welcome.

What shall I do with 
My day?
Surely not waste it?

Today I move slowly
Enjoy and savor
Comfort and cuddle.

Closets call begging to be cleaned
Drawers and vacuums wait
But this is my day.

My gift 
A Donna day
Calm and puttering

My day, my gift
No work allowed
Day to meditate.

My day, my gift
A thankful day
For each of you.

Sons and daughters,
Bros and sisters
Precious Grand boys

My day, my gift
Compliments
Of God and you – my treasured friends.

Christine King..Oct 2, 2010

Twice in a Lifetime..not….

Twice in a Lifetime….not

I find myself pondering a question that at first thought seemed easy to answer.  Many years ago there was a Canadian TV show called Twice in a Lifetime.  There was a male angel, cute as a button, who would be present at the time of death.  The deceased always had some deficiency that put their soul in jeopardy and thanks to the angel, they would then get an opportunity to go back to one point in their life to change the outcome. Invariably the deceased would conquer and the end showed them in fact restored to life – as if they had stayed on a true and proper path.

In the last few years I periodically have asked people what point in their lives they would return to – to change something if given a chance.  One friend who had experienced the worst kind of abuse as a young child said she would never have answered the door that day when a knock came.    She didn’t hesitate for even a second.  We have been friends for years and I always forget that decades later she still lives with that.

Most people don’t have such painful turning points but most can think of some point where they took a left when they should have turned right. Maybe a failed exam, or turning point or turning down a particular appointment or date.

I don’t find myself as lucky.  Every time I think of a possible trigger changing event my mind considers all the fallout effects about other good things that followed in spite of my errors in judgement.

There is no one point where I would change the course of my life. Instead there are multiple truths I ignored at one time or another that I would like to go back and embrace when I did not:

Do unto others….
Save ten percent..
Onto thine own self…
Be quiet and listen…
Be the kind of friend…
Honor thy….

There may not be a true Twice in a Lifetime and  thank God for that..instead each day is new and when we open our eyes we have a chance to do it better than the day before…or the year before..or…
For some of us it is baby steps cause just when I think I have conquered a mountain, I realize my biggest sin is congratulating myself for being so darn good..and I lose humility.  If I am not humble I am not seeing the scope of my own frailty, or the scope of God’s Greatness.

Nuts..then it is like…back to the beginning…sigh.

Do you have one pivotal point where you would have changed your course of action?

Earthquakes..Tsunamis.

 

I have spent the morning watching the news. The world is a small place and most of us know someone; family, friends, business associates in the affected areas.  Hawaii where friends are stranded and inconvenienced.  Japan where dear friends of friends live and travel.  People talk about the world ending.  But the end of the world is such an individual thing.  For hundreds perhaps thousands today, this part of what we call life, their world has ended…on this plane.

My nephew and his wife were in Thailand when that Tsunami hit.  Fortunately they were hiking in the mountains in the north that day, cut off by all communication and completely unaware of the drama unfolding only miles away.

Loss of life by nature is just as tragic as by political battles and brutality.  Maybe more so since it is innocent.

It gives us pause to remember the power of prayer.  You do not have to be religious to pray. You just have to understand we are all connected.  All part of one huge organism and when parts of that organism suffer our souls need to connect through at least a moment’s thought.  That is prayer.

Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 311 other followers

Archives

blogsurfer.us

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 311 other followers

%d bloggers like this: