I took my Daycare Family of four to Story Time at our local library yesterday. My little family is young, but getting older each and every day. My one-year-olds are now (almost) one and a half. My two-year-olds are two to three months away from turning three. My borrowed children are growing up.
None-the-less, I tend to feel like a brave warrior when I take them out on a group outing. Everything we do hinges on the (almost) three year olds willingness to walk and the 1-1/2 year olds ability to adhere to my expectations. Can I tell you just how amazing they are? I am and I will.
My little family-of-four and I go on many little adventures. A lot of them involve the library, all of them involve a fair amount of walking, some of them involve a playground and many times we have impromptu 'picnics' when we find ourselves off-site near lunch time. It keeps all of us happy.
Speaking of happy, let me get back to the reason that I started to write about our day ...
We have been to the library's Story Time several times lately. My 1-year-olds are the wild card. So very much hinges upon their ability to be still and quiet. They are awesome.
The last time we went, I thought that we may have to give Story Time a break. It was a little bit tense because one of my Little People did not want to be still. She is not yet 1-1/2 years old. Maybe I was expecting too much.
Then came yesterday.
Our story-teller was fantastic. She either has a very good reputation and people flock to listen to her read her stories or we were all a little stir crazy from the rain and clouds. She had a full house.
With a room full of kids, comes a great risk of a room full of noise. Yesterday's crowd had the potential to be quite loud. But do you know what happened instead? They laughed ...
It all started with our story-teller's reaction when her book "The Itsy Bitsy Spider" went off track and held many little-known verses and variations from the well known "Itsy Bitsy Spider" song that you are probably hearing in your head as I write.
Our story teller was very animated and humorous. Several children laughed when our story/song took an unexpected turn. With each new verse, came more laughter.
Laughter is contagious. One verse became funnier than the next. Laughter became the primary focus of this particular story. The laughter united our (very large) group.
You could feel the lasting effects of the laughter after the story was over. She segued into another song with "tapping sticks" so that the kids could all tap along. Each and every one of my Little Guys lined up to receive their tapping sticks and it simply made my heart sing, to watch them join in on all of the actions (my 1-1/2 year olds are wonderful observers but they don't follow the actions very often).
It was such an interactive and interesting experience. Our story-teller captivated her audience and we forged an out-of-story-time-experience with the laughter.
I walked out of the Story Room feeling lighter. One little story and one little person's infections, unbridled joy rerouted my day.
Laughter. I don't laugh long enough, loud enough or often enough. It felt wonderful to be in a room filled with laughter.
It does a person good to seek out laughter when life feels too heavy. What tickles your funny bone? I may go and check out some cat videos on YouTube when I feel that my smiling muscles are needing some exercise. Or maybe my most favorite comedian...
Happy Friday!! Let laughter find you and carry you through your day.
Friday, June 20, 2014
Thursday, June 19, 2014
All For the Low, Low Cost of $9.50!
I ordered a vegetable chopper from bedbathandbeyond.ca on June 5th. It just dawned on me that here it is, two weeks later and I have still not received it. This morning, I finally remembered decided to track it.
Oh, what a vacation it has been on as it slowly makes its way to its new home:
I wonder if it would have been any cheaper if it had taken a direct flight??
**Updated June 20th -
(do you suppose it got on a direct flight from Calgary to Saskatoon last night???)
***June 20th at approximately 4:30 ... my well travelled vegetable chopper reached its final destination!***
**Updated June 20th -
(do you suppose it got on a direct flight from Calgary to Saskatoon last night???)
***June 20th at approximately 4:30 ... my well travelled vegetable chopper reached its final destination!***
- Friday, 06/20/2014 at 4:25 P.M.
- Front Door
- THE END
When You Are Ready, It Will Come
I am (finally) feeling open to accept the gifts of the Universe. I have been aching for this - the return of finding a (re)connection to the world outside of my head and finding the way to connect the dots with all that I see, hear and feel.
Inspiration is around us each and every day.
At my lowest, two of my friends banded together and did their very best to pump me full of inspiration, bright light and hope. I could have cried because I saw all they offered me but I felt like an over saturated sponge, unable to absorb one morsel of their motivational offerings.
I came home with a care package (books, CDs, a card and a movie) in the hope of helping me find my way and I couldn't see the forest for the trees. It was too much. Too much information, too much work and too much concentration.
That was over two and a half years ago.
Over the course of the time that has spanned between 'then' and 'now', I have been unable to concentrate long enough to barely start, let alone finish reading a book. I have heard so many inspirational words which have drawn me toward buying a book that tells me more of a story but I didn't have the staying power to sit still and read it.
Inspiration had to come in flashes of insight. Almost akin to a shooting star. It was brief and fleeting. But it was there. I just had to relearn how to focus.
There are some things in life you simply have to ride out and feel your way through as you live it. Parenthood, love and loss, grief and any type of change you did not ask for, never wanted and could not imagine happening.
Everyone's journey is so very different. What works for one person may not work for another. What worked for you in the past may not work in your present day situation. And sometimes? You are simply not yet in a place where you can fully absorb the messages the Universe is sending to you each and every day.
At the moment, I am in my place of joy. Life is speaking to me. And finally, finally my hearing is tuned into the 'channel' and the static is gone.
I see friends going through that 'lost' phase. My heart aches from being able to relate what I see, to what I went through. I want to give them all I have found, yet I am so very hesitant to over saturate them. I offer links to websites which have (literally) spoken to me when I couldn't sit still long enough to read. I have offered the first and only book I was able to read during my time of restlessness. I throw words and what-has-inspired-me out into the air and see what comes back to me.
Last week, I had a group of friends over for Supper & a 'MasterClass'.
I stumbled upon Robin Roberts by turning on the TV at exactly the right time and place (I was actually going to tune in to a kid's channel). She was being interviewed and I happened to stumble upon her just as she was speaking the words I was meant to hear. I quickly set the PVR to tape the remainder of her interview, which inspired me to purchase (and read) her book "Everybody's Got Something".
I love when I read something that speaks to me. I find myself grasping and reaching to find the essence of their words to tell a story. As I was trying to find some of Robin's words to retell to a friend, I ended up stumbling upon yet another interview. She mentioned she would be on Oprah's Masterclass. Thus, our Supper & a MasterClass idea was born.
This all came to be, because I happened to turn on the TV at exactly the right time and on the right channel.
I don't think these flashes of inspiration are by chance. I (personally) believe the Universe is continually offering us exactly what we need. But only we know when we are ready and open to receive these gifts. It cannot be rushed nor forced. Time is of the essence.
If your time has not yet come, do not fret. You are exactly where you are meant to be right now. When you are ready, you will hear what the world is trying to tell you.
When you are ready, it will come.
Inspiration is around us each and every day.
At my lowest, two of my friends banded together and did their very best to pump me full of inspiration, bright light and hope. I could have cried because I saw all they offered me but I felt like an over saturated sponge, unable to absorb one morsel of their motivational offerings.
I came home with a care package (books, CDs, a card and a movie) in the hope of helping me find my way and I couldn't see the forest for the trees. It was too much. Too much information, too much work and too much concentration.
That was over two and a half years ago.
Over the course of the time that has spanned between 'then' and 'now', I have been unable to concentrate long enough to barely start, let alone finish reading a book. I have heard so many inspirational words which have drawn me toward buying a book that tells me more of a story but I didn't have the staying power to sit still and read it.
Inspiration had to come in flashes of insight. Almost akin to a shooting star. It was brief and fleeting. But it was there. I just had to relearn how to focus.
There are some things in life you simply have to ride out and feel your way through as you live it. Parenthood, love and loss, grief and any type of change you did not ask for, never wanted and could not imagine happening.
Everyone's journey is so very different. What works for one person may not work for another. What worked for you in the past may not work in your present day situation. And sometimes? You are simply not yet in a place where you can fully absorb the messages the Universe is sending to you each and every day.
At the moment, I am in my place of joy. Life is speaking to me. And finally, finally my hearing is tuned into the 'channel' and the static is gone.
I see friends going through that 'lost' phase. My heart aches from being able to relate what I see, to what I went through. I want to give them all I have found, yet I am so very hesitant to over saturate them. I offer links to websites which have (literally) spoken to me when I couldn't sit still long enough to read. I have offered the first and only book I was able to read during my time of restlessness. I throw words and what-has-inspired-me out into the air and see what comes back to me.
Last week, I had a group of friends over for Supper & a 'MasterClass'.
I stumbled upon Robin Roberts by turning on the TV at exactly the right time and place (I was actually going to tune in to a kid's channel). She was being interviewed and I happened to stumble upon her just as she was speaking the words I was meant to hear. I quickly set the PVR to tape the remainder of her interview, which inspired me to purchase (and read) her book "Everybody's Got Something".
I love when I read something that speaks to me. I find myself grasping and reaching to find the essence of their words to tell a story. As I was trying to find some of Robin's words to retell to a friend, I ended up stumbling upon yet another interview. She mentioned she would be on Oprah's Masterclass. Thus, our Supper & a MasterClass idea was born.
This all came to be, because I happened to turn on the TV at exactly the right time and on the right channel.
I don't think these flashes of inspiration are by chance. I (personally) believe the Universe is continually offering us exactly what we need. But only we know when we are ready and open to receive these gifts. It cannot be rushed nor forced. Time is of the essence.
If your time has not yet come, do not fret. You are exactly where you are meant to be right now. When you are ready, you will hear what the world is trying to tell you.
When you are ready, it will come.
 |
| Every day is a new beginning, a fresh slate and a hopeful reminder that no matter what is going on, the sun will set upon one day and a new dawn awaits. |
Wednesday, June 18, 2014
Quiet Influence
They say talk is cheap and perhaps 'they' are right because sometimes talking (or writing) has been the only affordable thing for me to do. What 'they' don't say is that words are priceless.
I am in the enviable position of collecting memories for my dad's family's Book of Memories. Not only have I been on the receiving end of listening to my dad's brothers talk about their childhood memories, their parents and grandparents, but I have been collecting tidbits from anyone who cares to share them, to round out our family's story.
There are still many finishing touches to go but presently I am honing in on the chapters of my grandparent's seven sons. The uncle's chapters will signify the 'end' of this prequel to our family's history. Last week I sent out one final request for memories and stories to all of my cousins.
Last night ... I received the best gift that life has to offer.
One of my uncles has five children. Each one of them wrote their own personal stories, memories and told of the many ways their dad has influenced their lives. This gift came hot on the heels of Father's Day and I can only imagine how their dad must have felt when he read what they had to say.
There was such a common thread about the man that they wrote about. Yet each person's slant was just a little different than the other.
His oldest son told of how his dad impacted the way he was a father to his own family of five. He remembered the little things that his dad told him that made a big impact. Another one of his children said (something to the effect of), "I don't know if you will remember this Dad, but ..." and went on to tell a story about how their dad's comments and actions molded them.
The wisdom that this uncle has passed down to his children is so reminiscent of the little morsels of advise that I remember Dad telling me. Small stuff. It is all small stuff. A comment here, there and everywhere sprinkled upon a lifetime equals a great deal of information.
But it is action that speaks louder than words (thus, the 'talk is cheap' credo that I mentioned at the beginning of this barrage of words). What speaks loudest and most consistently from this quiet man I call my uncle is his actions. He is a man of integrity and did not go off spouting what he did not live out loud.
This is the common thread that I have found among my family's memories. Actions speaking louder than words. Learning from example. Emulating that which has been seen. The soft voices within my dad's family only punctuate their actions.
I didn't grow up really knowing my cousins on my dad's side of the family. I knew who they were and we had sporadic contact throughout my childhood but they were strangers to me. Yet as an adult, each and every time I talk with any one of them I feel like I have known them for a lifetime. The invisible thread of family, integrity and the quietness of their manner underneath the surface accentuates everything that ties us together.
If they could see us now ... our grandpa and grandma; my dad and my uncles and their wives; and our 'greats' and all of those who carved the path that we are now following ... I think that they would be pleased.
There may not have been an abundance of words but there was a life lived with integrity that will carry on throughout the generations that follow.
My cousin quoted some words from "How to Have Enduring Influence" (please click on the link to appreciate the wisdom it imparts - copyright laws prevent me from copying and pasting the article here) that say more than I ever could. It talks of the way that we are continually influencing everyone we meet in our lives.
Live your life you want to pass down to your children. It is the best inheritance they could ever receive.
I am in the enviable position of collecting memories for my dad's family's Book of Memories. Not only have I been on the receiving end of listening to my dad's brothers talk about their childhood memories, their parents and grandparents, but I have been collecting tidbits from anyone who cares to share them, to round out our family's story.
There are still many finishing touches to go but presently I am honing in on the chapters of my grandparent's seven sons. The uncle's chapters will signify the 'end' of this prequel to our family's history. Last week I sent out one final request for memories and stories to all of my cousins.
Last night ... I received the best gift that life has to offer.
One of my uncles has five children. Each one of them wrote their own personal stories, memories and told of the many ways their dad has influenced their lives. This gift came hot on the heels of Father's Day and I can only imagine how their dad must have felt when he read what they had to say.
There was such a common thread about the man that they wrote about. Yet each person's slant was just a little different than the other.
His oldest son told of how his dad impacted the way he was a father to his own family of five. He remembered the little things that his dad told him that made a big impact. Another one of his children said (something to the effect of), "I don't know if you will remember this Dad, but ..." and went on to tell a story about how their dad's comments and actions molded them.
The wisdom that this uncle has passed down to his children is so reminiscent of the little morsels of advise that I remember Dad telling me. Small stuff. It is all small stuff. A comment here, there and everywhere sprinkled upon a lifetime equals a great deal of information.
But it is action that speaks louder than words (thus, the 'talk is cheap' credo that I mentioned at the beginning of this barrage of words). What speaks loudest and most consistently from this quiet man I call my uncle is his actions. He is a man of integrity and did not go off spouting what he did not live out loud.
This is the common thread that I have found among my family's memories. Actions speaking louder than words. Learning from example. Emulating that which has been seen. The soft voices within my dad's family only punctuate their actions.
I didn't grow up really knowing my cousins on my dad's side of the family. I knew who they were and we had sporadic contact throughout my childhood but they were strangers to me. Yet as an adult, each and every time I talk with any one of them I feel like I have known them for a lifetime. The invisible thread of family, integrity and the quietness of their manner underneath the surface accentuates everything that ties us together.
If they could see us now ... our grandpa and grandma; my dad and my uncles and their wives; and our 'greats' and all of those who carved the path that we are now following ... I think that they would be pleased.
There may not have been an abundance of words but there was a life lived with integrity that will carry on throughout the generations that follow.
My cousin quoted some words from "How to Have Enduring Influence" (please click on the link to appreciate the wisdom it imparts - copyright laws prevent me from copying and pasting the article here) that say more than I ever could. It talks of the way that we are continually influencing everyone we meet in our lives.
 |
| Seeds of hard work, honesty and integrity were planted here. I am grateful to be 'part of this crop'! |
Tuesday, June 17, 2014
Then I Read This ...
Last night I signed up to receive "Notes from the Universe" from TUT (Totally Unique Thoughts).
This morning's email was asking if I would choose go walk straight through a forest or would I like to investigate every path and turn over every rock. I subconsciously wove this thought into this morning's post and thought to myself "I would want to fly over the forest. You can't see where you are going in a heavily tree'd area!"
Then I went back and reread that email and I discovered this paragraph tacked onto the very end of this morning's note from the Universe:
This morning's email was asking if I would choose go walk straight through a forest or would I like to investigate every path and turn over every rock. I subconsciously wove this thought into this morning's post and thought to myself "I would want to fly over the forest. You can't see where you are going in a heavily tree'd area!"
Then I went back and reread that email and I discovered this paragraph tacked onto the very end of this morning's note from the Universe:
"Imagine having pancakes one morning and thinking how cool it would be to have a perfectly renovated home, or to complete writing a book, Colleen. Would these goals appear exactly how, when, and where you want them to, or might the path meander? Unless, of course, pancakes are the goal."
Thoughts become things... choose the good ones! ®
© www.tut.com ®
Maybe I need to be tricked into meandering. Cutting a straight path through the forest is not as enlightening as getting a little 'lost' as you make your way.
Sometimes, one must stop and appreciate the little 'weeds' that we encounter along the way...
Finishing What I Have Started
I have started and stopped reading more books than I can begin to count over the course of the past several years.
My attention span became that of a gnat. I couldn't concentrate. I lost focus. I couldn't keep still. Then when I stayed still, I fell asleep.
Then came a little game that I play with myself. The game of: "You can't do (something fun) until you finish doing (something I should be doing)".
Something fun consists of many things. Reading, cleaning, settling in and discovering a new series on Netflix that I have never watched before and whatever 'flavor of the week' I decide upon at that given moment.
So what have I done instead? I have slept. Oh, how I have slept! I have watched the entire series of Gilmore Girls. Twice. I fritter time away like nobody's business. I can sit down at the computer and send myself on a scavenger hunt that takes me from Googling one small idea until it branches off, not only into a tree but a good chunk of the forest.
The world started feeling heavy upon my shoulders when I told myself that I needed to carve out time just-for-me and exclude the world around me. I took away my energy source whenever I denied myself what I thrive on - friends and family.
I have had many diversions within life-as-I-know-it over the course of time since I took on this Book Project. I decided to go back to school at almost the same time I started The Book. I tried changing things up a little bit within my 'career' and I have found myself back to where I was before I started. Except I am smarter (I went to school, you see).
I got an education in life-outside-of-my-doors which was time and energy consuming. I learned lessons that I never would have learned if I had stayed within my safe zone. Some lessons energize us. Others deplete us. Let's just say that I was depleted for a while.
It takes time to regain what-has-been-lost after your world has been turned upside down. I lost my True North and wandered for far too long. I survived but I did not thrive while I was wandering through the forest. I am the type of person who finds 'forests' claustrophobic and would prefer to fly over them rather than investigate every creek and path along the way. There are too many bugs and unknowns within that forest.
Life forced my hand. I got lost in my forest and had to find my way through. It took longer than I expected it would because I took a few wrong turns. Wrong? Maybe not. I'll just call them 'extra' turns. I went in circles for a while but I expanded the circle each time and eventually found an exit strategy.
I prefer life in the flatlands where you can see out into the horizon and dream of possibilities. Dreams. They have come back to me in oh-so-many-ways. I wake up each morning with the wisp of a dream fading away from my consciousness. Sometimes I just lay still and try to hold onto a fragment of the vivid night life that I have led while I have been sleeping.
The best part is that I am dreaming while I am awake again. Something strong is pulling at me and telling me to look ahead but not to forget the day. Forge onward but tend to the life that you have created. Words, ideas and the need to reach out have come to the forefront of my mind and I am simply following through. Great things are starting to happen. I feel alive again.
Suddenly, books that have been abandoned are calling out to me. Read me! Nourish your mind!! Boy, do I have some insight for you!!!
I have finished reading four books in about as many weeks. Each of them has made me think and led me to a clarity that has been lacking. It is like I took off my glasses and cleaned them. My perspective is keener and my vision is clearer.
My attention span became that of a gnat. I couldn't concentrate. I lost focus. I couldn't keep still. Then when I stayed still, I fell asleep.
Then came a little game that I play with myself. The game of: "You can't do (something fun) until you finish doing (something I should be doing)".
Something fun consists of many things. Reading, cleaning, settling in and discovering a new series on Netflix that I have never watched before and whatever 'flavor of the week' I decide upon at that given moment.
So what have I done instead? I have slept. Oh, how I have slept! I have watched the entire series of Gilmore Girls. Twice. I fritter time away like nobody's business. I can sit down at the computer and send myself on a scavenger hunt that takes me from Googling one small idea until it branches off, not only into a tree but a good chunk of the forest.
The world started feeling heavy upon my shoulders when I told myself that I needed to carve out time just-for-me and exclude the world around me. I took away my energy source whenever I denied myself what I thrive on - friends and family.
I have had many diversions within life-as-I-know-it over the course of time since I took on this Book Project. I decided to go back to school at almost the same time I started The Book. I tried changing things up a little bit within my 'career' and I have found myself back to where I was before I started. Except I am smarter (I went to school, you see).
I got an education in life-outside-of-my-doors which was time and energy consuming. I learned lessons that I never would have learned if I had stayed within my safe zone. Some lessons energize us. Others deplete us. Let's just say that I was depleted for a while.
It takes time to regain what-has-been-lost after your world has been turned upside down. I lost my True North and wandered for far too long. I survived but I did not thrive while I was wandering through the forest. I am the type of person who finds 'forests' claustrophobic and would prefer to fly over them rather than investigate every creek and path along the way. There are too many bugs and unknowns within that forest.
Life forced my hand. I got lost in my forest and had to find my way through. It took longer than I expected it would because I took a few wrong turns. Wrong? Maybe not. I'll just call them 'extra' turns. I went in circles for a while but I expanded the circle each time and eventually found an exit strategy.
I prefer life in the flatlands where you can see out into the horizon and dream of possibilities. Dreams. They have come back to me in oh-so-many-ways. I wake up each morning with the wisp of a dream fading away from my consciousness. Sometimes I just lay still and try to hold onto a fragment of the vivid night life that I have led while I have been sleeping.
The best part is that I am dreaming while I am awake again. Something strong is pulling at me and telling me to look ahead but not to forget the day. Forge onward but tend to the life that you have created. Words, ideas and the need to reach out have come to the forefront of my mind and I am simply following through. Great things are starting to happen. I feel alive again.
Suddenly, books that have been abandoned are calling out to me. Read me! Nourish your mind!! Boy, do I have some insight for you!!!
I have finished reading four books in about as many weeks. Each of them has made me think and led me to a clarity that has been lacking. It is like I took off my glasses and cleaned them. My perspective is keener and my vision is clearer.
I have opened my eyes and look at what I am finding:
I am finding the past within the present day. These wild flowers take me back to my childhood, what I experienced and saw when we lived on the farm. They take me back to My Roots.
I am finally starting to finish what I have started. I can see this is headed in a very good direction. I look forward to wrapping up a few more chapters so I can finish one book. Before I start another...
Monday, June 16, 2014
Immersed
It was a beautiful, rainy day Sunday. I gazed outward and enjoyed a day that begged me to stay indoors where it was warm and dry. And that is exactly what I did ...
I let the day take me wherever it wanted to go. An email that I had received from my uncle steered me in the right direction and I was off.
Immediately upon receiving my uncle's email the day prior, some words came to me. I didn't exactly know what to do with them so I printed them off and eventually attached those words within a reply to my uncle. They eventually became yesterday's post.
Yesterday was Father's Day and as much as I abhor those Hallmark Holidays and try not to give them any more of my attention than any regular day, yesterday was different.
A good friend's father passed away the Friday before Father's Day this year. I could not help but think of her as the day neared and my focus was redirected. I thought of all of those who have lost their father. There are so many.
In my quest to find the picture of Dad that I was looking for, I came upon other pictures with dads and their children. I posted a few on my cousins' Facebook 'pages' and emailed others...
My cousins commented almost immediately and sporadically throughout the day. The entire time that this Facebook dialogue was happening, I was working on Dad's family's book project. I lost myself in it. I became 'as one' with the characters of our story.
I love the way I feel when I have the opportunity to completely immerse myself in this project. I feel so warm and full of ... 'love' isn't quite the word for what I feel. But it is close. It is an all-encompassing warmth. It is like I am embodied by those who I am writing about. There is such an overpowering feeling of 'telling their story' with compassion and trying to understand.
I was wrapped up in memories, stories and feelings. I could feel their energy even though their physical bodies left us so many years ago. I most especially felt a tug from my dad's oldest brother and I was in the most direct contact with his two youngest daughters yesterday.
I can feel an ache in their heart where their father used to be. He has been gone for 34 years, but he had unfinished business. I can feel it. It pulls at me and won't leave me alone.
Yesterday was a gift in every sense of the word. Far too many people I know are missing their dads. For some, the grief is so very new and raw. For others, it is an ache that never quite goes away.
Thanks, Dad. You filled my heart and left me whole. I had no idea how fortunate that I was but I am trying so very hard to share what I have.
If you could see me now, Dad what would you say? Sometimes, just sometimes, I think I hear you whisper. I'll keep listening...
I let the day take me wherever it wanted to go. An email that I had received from my uncle steered me in the right direction and I was off.
Immediately upon receiving my uncle's email the day prior, some words came to me. I didn't exactly know what to do with them so I printed them off and eventually attached those words within a reply to my uncle. They eventually became yesterday's post.
Yesterday was Father's Day and as much as I abhor those Hallmark Holidays and try not to give them any more of my attention than any regular day, yesterday was different.
A good friend's father passed away the Friday before Father's Day this year. I could not help but think of her as the day neared and my focus was redirected. I thought of all of those who have lost their father. There are so many.
In my quest to find the picture of Dad that I was looking for, I came upon other pictures with dads and their children. I posted a few on my cousins' Facebook 'pages' and emailed others...
My cousins commented almost immediately and sporadically throughout the day. The entire time that this Facebook dialogue was happening, I was working on Dad's family's book project. I lost myself in it. I became 'as one' with the characters of our story.
I love the way I feel when I have the opportunity to completely immerse myself in this project. I feel so warm and full of ... 'love' isn't quite the word for what I feel. But it is close. It is an all-encompassing warmth. It is like I am embodied by those who I am writing about. There is such an overpowering feeling of 'telling their story' with compassion and trying to understand.
I was wrapped up in memories, stories and feelings. I could feel their energy even though their physical bodies left us so many years ago. I most especially felt a tug from my dad's oldest brother and I was in the most direct contact with his two youngest daughters yesterday.
I can feel an ache in their heart where their father used to be. He has been gone for 34 years, but he had unfinished business. I can feel it. It pulls at me and won't leave me alone.
Yesterday was a gift in every sense of the word. Far too many people I know are missing their dads. For some, the grief is so very new and raw. For others, it is an ache that never quite goes away.
Thanks, Dad. You filled my heart and left me whole. I had no idea how fortunate that I was but I am trying so very hard to share what I have.
If you could see me now, Dad what would you say? Sometimes, just sometimes, I think I hear you whisper. I'll keep listening...
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