Remember Those Good Old Days

Someone at our table was wistfully longing for “the good old days.” Memories flooded back when I heard her. Nostalgic memories . . .

When I could walk down the streets of our small city, speak to many I knew, and nod to the others;

When the policeman was a friend who lived on our street;

When Saturday matinees were fifteen cents, and I could sit through it twice;

When my parents never let me skip church, and I must always wear a hat;

When I had one good outfit, which did for every important occasion;

When life was good, and I felt safe;

When I believed my parents could handle anything. They always did!   Continue reading

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From the Past to the Future

I am now aged. Although my accumulation of years is obvious, what is not as apparent is the inner changes that are taking place. My interests, abilities, and expectations are all undergoing revision. I feel an urgent need to define the new me: Time is running out! Is there anything now that I can be a part of and that could be of value to present and future generations? What must I do? What am I able to do? What do I want to do?

Taking the easy route, I decide that what I want to do is apt to be what I can do best. The answer, then, is easy, too: I will be a custodian of family history, of the stories that reflect both the everyday lives and the dreams of people I have known and loved. Recording those stories will be the invaluable ingredient.

For centuries, the history of a family or a people was passed down in the only way possible: orally. Person to person, generation by generation, the precious stories were told, memorized, and passed on. Now, I can take my pick of recording methods, using one or all: books and pictures, videos, and computers.

But it is all storytelling, and the old oral tradition can still be a part of it. Whenever my family gathers, in the midst of the laughter and fun, I will “remember when,” sharing the stories I know. Passed on with love, these memories will be part of what binds the family together, today and tomorrow.

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Unexpected Glimpses

The mind is a wonderful and fearsome thing. Mine, for example, dredges up unexpected glimpses—memories, good and bad—of incidents which have shaped my life. Some are events. Some are encounters with people – family, friends, or strangers. All have been emotional, engulfing my heart and challenging my intellect.

There seems to be no order to these glimpses. My mind skips through my life, picks out events, and presents them for my attention. Sometimes they are helpful for resolving a current problem, but many times not. Something just triggers a recollection. Some of the events that my mind will not drop go back to my early twenties.   Continue reading

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The Memories Life Triggers

Sunday morning. I’m on my way to church on a warm, sunny, spring day. David, the owner/driver of the “Driving Miss Daisy” service, and I have been chatting. We come to 16th Avenue, and turn onto it. My sentence ends mid-stream and I gasp in wonder. Ahead stretch blocks of cherry trees in full blossom. Last week there was only an occasional flower. People were saying then, “This is far too early for spring. If it turns cool again the trees will be damaged!”

These comments run through my mind as we drive past tree after tree, all dressed in their spring best. Apparently nature has its own schedule and doesn’t consult the weather forecast! My spirits soar. Joy and happiness fill my heart. I shake my head and say, “I’m new to Vancouver, David. Perhaps one day I will take all of Vancouver’s beauty for granted, but I’m not there yet.”

“Better than the prairies, in your opinion?”   Continue reading

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Flash!

As I open my sleepy eyes, the radio is pouring out its news. The big story is the removal of a boy from his home because of abuse. Unexpected emotions sweep over me. The world flashes before my eyes, and I see and feel intensely. I catch glimpses of a world I do not recognize. Panic rises in me, tightens my throat and I whisper, “It’s happening again. What in life am I missing this time?”   Continue reading

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Beloved Animals Who Have Shared My Life: Final Sequel

Part 3 – 1967 to 1972 – The End of the Road

The previous episode of Rocky’s story ended with the news of our family move
back to Edmonton in the summer of 1967. This picks up there.

Fall, 1967. Rocky is getting older: he’s 13 now. For some breeds that would be very old, but although Rocky is now an old dog, he isn’t ancient! The “kids” in Rocky’s adopted family are growing up, too. Ralph is 20, Lorna 17, Anne 15, and Mary 12. As a result, our family dynamics are changing. The children are moving into more adult activities. They still love Rocky, but now he spends more time with Sheldon and me. We’re the ones who take him to the vet for check-ups and advice. His stiffness is increasing, so Sheldon adds some cushioning to Rocky’s basket-bed. I find a piece of carpet for him to lie on in the kitchen, or in the archway to the living room. He loves to lie there and watch us.   Continue reading

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Beloved Animals Who Have Shared My Life: Final Sequel

Part 2 – 1955 to 1971 – The Changes Time Brings

July 1955 and it is Saturday morning. The porridge is almost ready and the family will soon be down for breakfast. I’ll call Rocky up, his food is already in his dish. How that poor dog can eat.

“Rocky! Come on up. Get your food before the kids get here, and you won’t have to stop eating to be petted.”

I can hear the scrambling on the staircase steps, and here he is. Well that’s a welcome! He comes over to greet me before running to his dish. It is only a week since we brought him home. It is hard to believe how much he has improved in that time. Instead of shrinking back, he will let anyone in the family pet him.   Continue reading

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Beloved Animals Who Have Shared My Life: A Final Sequel

This is a story about another beloved animal, not a sheep this time, or a chicken, but a dog.

Part 1 – Decisions and Acquisition

It’s the summer of 1955. The Gibson family is thriving, enjoying the sunshine and Ralph’s first summer vacation from school. His 8th birthday will come in October. The family discussions turn often to this big day. Ralph has two wishes for his special day: a bicycle and a dog.

“It will have to be one or the other,” says his Dad. “We can’t manage both. It takes work to learn to ride a bike, but it’s fun too.”

“Is a dog work too, Dad?” Ralph asks.

“Yes, son, but a different kind of work. A dog needs good care, lots of exercise, and much love.”

Five-year-old Lorna chimes in, “Get a dog, Ralphie. I love dogs.”

Three-year-old Anne mutters to no one in particular, “Don’t like doggies. They scare me!”

Seven-month-old Mary is the only one who doesn’t give a hoot what his choice is!    Continue reading

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Beloved Animals Who Have Shared My Life: A Sequel

This is an encore presentation of a blog on another beloved animal –
not a sheep this time, but a chicken.

Spring was here. The farm hummed with new life including newly hatched chicks. Dad arrived at the back door cradling a little chick, about three days old. The mother hen had hidden her nest, and the brood was just discovered. “He’s damaged,” said Dad, “He drags one wing. I’ll have to destroy him but I feel badly, the little guy is so game!”

The chick looked up at us and chirped and, of course, the battle was won. A pen was built in the house yard, hand feeding and cuddling by all of us—talk about bonding! Dad still worried, saying, “This won’t work. Chickens don’t accept anything that is different.” – but we did not want to listen.   Continue reading

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Beloved Animals Who Have Shared My Life

Humans and animals have had relationships for a very long time, about 19,000 years. What pulls us together? What makes it binding? Something mutually beneficial must be happening. I count myself blessed that I have experienced some enriching cross-species relationships.

What holds these relationships together? At least part of the answer is the development of emotional ties between the two species representatives. In their own way, each participant finds many benefits—companionship, affection, excitement, comfort—and all are binding factors. With love I think of my beloved animal friends, starting with a sheep.

“A sheep?” I hear someone exclaim.

“Yes, a sheep. Let me introduce you to . . . Peggy, the only sheep I ever knew.”    Continue reading

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