About Me

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Dartmouth, Nova Scotia, Canada

Tuesday, December 14, 2010

The Greatest Gifts......

This entry most certainly has to be prefaced with this words "I am exhausted"! I am wondering even now about the wisdom of writing while under the influence of sleep deprivation, but I really, really want to get this out (and apparently it wants out) so, again I beg your indulgence as I set out, with very little sleep under my belt, to try and say something meaningful. Because that is rather the point of this particular entry. This, is my "thank you" to all of you who have gifted me in so many different ways over the years with your very own brands of love. Gifts, come in all kinds of different packages, and I want to take this opportunity to thank as many of you as possible for the gifts that are uniquely yours and that you have, at one time or another, chosen to share with me. To that end, I will be using names. None of the names are the "right" ones, (and are pretty horrid names at that!) but it is my hope, that in the description, you will each recognize yourself and accept my profound and heartfelt thanks. You have all enriched my life in a myriad of ways and for that, I will be forever in your debt.

It would seem that the majority of the gifts that have come my way, have done so predominantly over the past ten years. It started in Guelph, Ontario, with a small writing group facilitated by one of the most extraordinary men it has ever been my privilege to know. He was a great leader, and is a wonderful friend. His gifts to me knew no bounds but possibly the most outstanding gift was his gift for taking his marvelous photography and mixing it with his equally wonderful poetry and creating works of art that I can still admire thanks to that wonderful invention called the Internet. What an amazing gift to have and to share. I still look in wonder at the piece of artwork he gave me and think "this is one talented man. How did I ever get lucky enough to meet him and call him friend"? But the fact is, I did and for that, Gerald, I thank you.

Then there's the writing group as a whole. And you all know who you are! What an incredible bunch of talented people. Good to great writers one and all and you shared that writing with me! Writing. So individual. So personal. So incredibly well done. And you shared your gifts with me. You're wonderful! I owe you all so much!

It would seem that I know more and more truly great writers as time passes and Carl is yet another such person. His gift of story telling combined with his flair for putting it on paper in such a way as to cause laughter, tears, smiles, frowns and all range of emotion in between is nothing short of miraculous to me right now. I have been craving something that would touch me, and you my friend have done that. You shared your amazing gift of self unsparingly. For that I will be forever grateful.

My wonderful, beloved step-sons! I can never thank you enough guys! Not only are each of you talented in your own right but you both managed to find wonderful women to love, who have wonderful talent of their own. And all of you have been awesome enough to share your gifts with me through the years. Dan, (sorry, no name change on these guys!), you can create the most exotic and delicious dishes I've ever had, in even my tiny kitchen, and have done so just for me, on occasion. That's a true gift Hon! Thank you for sharing with me. And for being smart enough to forge such a wonderful relationship with that girl who is Katie, writer and painter extraordinaire and all 'round lovely woman...kudos Hon! You're both wonderful!

Don. You never cease to amaze. You can write the most incredible words on mere scraps, then pick up a guitar and make them come alive in a whole new way! You are yet another shining example of one who has enriched my life on so many levels. But your gift of writing and playing music is truly one to cherish and admire. I love that you've been kind enough over the years to share that with me. And that wonderful woman you love, who is yet another Kate. (Two Katies,thanks for that guys!) The woman who can pick up a paint brush, put it to canvas and suddenly where there was once nothing, there is now beauty. Live long and prosper guys! You both deserve the best!

In keeping with the music theme, there's now Peter, who once said, "To hear music. To make music. What an incredible gift". (with thanks to "Peter" for allowing me to use the quote). How right you are Peter! You, who are able to pick up a bass and make it do what you tell it to do and have that come out as something that I so love to listen to, is nothing short of astounding to someone like me, who has absolutely no talent in that area. You share that with me and I love you for it. More importantly perhaps, I appreciate you for it.

From music, the natural flow of "simply sound" springs forth. Wow Stuart! You can take "this" noise, combine it with "that" sound" and somehow create "the other" feast for the ears! Astonishing! Truly remarkable. And again, something you've shared with me on a very personal level when you took one of my poems and combined it with just the right sounds to make it a totally new, different and amazing piece of work. You're wonderful. Truly wonderful my dear, dear friend.

Out of a poetry group sprang yet another wonderfully gifted set of people willing to share their gifts with me. Among them a woman whose photography was and still is, breathtaking. Photography she had experience with before the poetry group. Poetry she did not. I cannot even conceive of what she might have turned out had she had even a working knowledge of poetry before the group. The truly great (there really is no other word here) poetry that Karen turned out astonishes and delights me even today. And again, she willingly shared this gift with me. A serious debt of gratitude!

Then there are those rare and special people like Darlene, Amanda and Kasey, who, simply by being nothing other than who they are, is gift enough. But of course it doesn't stop there. Not at all. Darlene, who has a lovely and (to me anyway) rather large home. Usually that seems to translate to "cold". Not so with this wonderful woman. She has the gift of creating a warm and inviting home where you always feel comfortable and most of the "goings on" happen in her kitchen. And here she truly struts her stuff! Darlene can do anything, I am convinced, in a kitchen. And the result is always the best food (and usually the most fattening!) you'll find this side of Scotland! What an incredible lady with an incredible gift that she seems to share with so very many others. I will love her forever, no matter how much distance separates us.

Amanda! What a truly delightful young woman! And that is absolutely the right word. Delightful. Full of delight! She is probably the most bounce backable person I have ever known! (yes, I know, resilient, or a host of other words would have been far more grammatically correct, but believe me, with Amanda, bounce backable works the best)! Though separated by distance, it is at least a shorter distance than Ontario so I get to see her once in a while. And she carries a smile, a laugh and a hug with her wherever she goes! Gifts that are always appreciated and often arriving just in the nick of time! Thank you Amanda-girl for being you and sharing that wonderful you with me!

And last, but by no means least, my wonderful Kasey. You never, ever cease to astonish and inspire me. You have more talent in your little finger than most people have in their entire beings. But this, I don't think, is your greatest gift. Your greatest gift my friend is that of grace. A gift you seem to have in abundance. I admire you. I aspire to be just a little more like you. I love you more than words can say. It almost seems that I am doing a disservice here by not saying more about this incredible woman. But really, sometimes even I recognize overkill. She is, quite simply, amazing. Period. No words can add to that.

And so, during this holiday season of giving and receiving gifts, it is my wish, for all of you, that you continue to share and nurture these gifts that you have so graciously shared with me. And from the bottom of my heart, thank you all for being a part of my life and for sharing all of these truly great gifts.

Gifts. They're everywhere. Look around you. At the person next to you on the bus. At the driver of the car that just cut you off. At the minister in your church. At the girl who bussed your table in the restaurant last night. They all have gifts to offer. Trust me on this one.



..........But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. (Gal. 5:22,23)

Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays and Shalom everyone.
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Thursday, November 11, 2010

I Remember.............

She was a young girl I met only once. He was a teenage boy on whom I had a mad crush. But they were 2 of 5 people I never forgot. The entire family were unforgettable to a 17-year-old Rachel. I lost contact with the “mad crush” but never forgot him. Through that wonderful invention that is the Internet, I re connected with him 34 years later. It was wonderful. A few emails and even a Christmas card brought memories of my crush and this wonderful boy into my present and he seems not to have changed a lot. He’s grown and older now, as are we all, but still a wonderful person. Wonderful enough to go to Afghanistan because he believed it was the right thing to do. Reconnecting, even on that small a scale was marvellous. November 10, the eve of Remembrance Day, for the first time in 35 years, I spoke to this man on the telephone. It was amazing for me. For a multitude of reasons. And sad, unutterably sad. The young, vibrant girl I remember as his sister, had, unbeknownst to me, passed away. Another victim of cancer, the merciless killer of so many. Including my own mother. This news hit me in a way that was totally unexpected. And it brought a flood of memories to the surface. I remembered his sister albeit as a young teenager but still as one who died too young. I remembered my brother, who committed suicide at age 54. I remembered my father who died at age 67. And my mother, who at 70 years, succumbed to the same dreaded cancer that had taken my friend’s sister. All people who were taken from us far too soon. The way they died, and even the age at which they died was suddenly not important at all. What mattered was only that they were gone. Gone far too soon one and all. I thought of all of my friends who have lost loved ones and realized that at 51, I no longer know anyone who has NOT lost a loved one.

The conversation I had with my friend of over 35 years was truly wonderful. It felt as though I had finally re connected on a much more tangible basis and that was great. I hung up the phone and wept just the same. I wept for my friend and the pain he’d had to endure when he lost his sister. I wept for myself and the pain I’ve endured with the loss of my parents and brother. I wept for those of my friends who I know have lost loved ones. I wept for my brother’s family who lost their husband and father far too soon. And I wept for all those still in war torn countries who may or may not make it home to their loved ones. I wept unashamedly.

Too often tears are regarded as a sign of weakness. My tears were most definitely not a sign of weakness in any way. They were my expression of love for myself, a young girl I once met briefly but was impressed by, a friend who is a remarkable human being and love for so very many close friends who have lost loved ones. I cry because I love. This can’t be a bad thing. Or a sign of weakness. This is love, Rachel style.

November 11 is traditionally a day for remembering those who have died serving our country. While I am most certainly grateful to those men and women, it still somehow seemed appropriate to also find a small way of honouring those closest to me. Those I love. So should you find this inappropriate in this special day of Remembrance, I beg your indulgence. This is my way of showing my love to all who have gone before. It is also a salute to the people I love who have had to endure the pain of suffering through those deaths. And perhaps, equally as important, it is a profound outpouring of gratitude for the safe return of someone very special to me, who got into and out of Afghanistan, alive.

I grieve with all of you. I love all of you.

KR,DM,DM,DG,SD.......this one's for you especially.
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Wednesday, October 27, 2010

The Wisdom of Paying It Forward

It's been a strange morning. It's possible, I suppose, that it could get stranger, but I believe that what I did, in an effort to "pay it forward" will not turn out to be a bad thing at best. Who knows, it may even turn out to be a blessing. One I may never know about but that's why you leave things up to God right? And, as is my wont, I've not started at the beginning of my story.

I live in a rough part of town. It's a given. I learned long ago that the wise way to deal with this is simply mind my own business, smile and nod at strangers and carry on my way. Which is what I've been doing since I moved in here in August. Until this morning. Sometimes, minding my own business gets really tough for me and lines of "smart" and "possibly really dumb", get blurred. Which is when I rely on gut instinct and God. (God being the far more reliable of the two!) That's what I did this morning. Went with my gut and left the rest up to God. Which seems to have worked. At least so far. It's possible that repercussions could happen I suppose but that's all part of it I guess.

Every morning I get out of bed and go for a walk. This morning, on my way out, I almost tripped over three teenagers, more asleep than awake in the hallway. (Which is what happens when landlords don't care about their rental units and "security doors" aren't locked!) In any event, here they were, just feet away from my apartment door. Two teenage boys and a younger teenage girl. They didn't seem at all threatening so I simply said "morning guys", smiled and went for my walk. They were still there when I got back. Now that I was awake, I could see that these kids were in rough shape. One of the boys seemed to have been crying and the other two are just plain wiped out. So I stopped. I asked them why they were there and how long they had been there. They had spent the night in the hallway because every other apartment building they had been to was too cold. "So why are you camping out in hallways?" Rachel asks because she's honestly concerned. (others would call it seriously stupid I know!) I got their story. The short version is, their car broke down about 60 kms. away and they hitchhiked to the city then had nowhere to go. While I'm still not clear on why the hitched to the city instead of going back home, I have some pretty good guesses. These kids were pretty much a mess. So, in true Rachel fashion, I invited them in. (yes, I hear the intakes of breath coming from those of you who subscribe to the "stupid" theory) but it's who I am. It's what I do. And any of you that know me at all, know this to be true. So at 8 am, I had three teenagers asleep in my very tiny apartment. Three teenagers I'd never seen before in my life. And I remembered. I remembered a teenage Rachel who had run away from home. I actually knew where I was going! Or so I thought. I knew that there was someone in this world I could count on for help and that someone lived at the far end of the province. Problem is, I lived pretty much in the middle of the province. Which end was I going to? I finally made a decision that I knew had to be the right one. And I put my thumb out. After two short rides, I got a ride from a man who was going all the way to Yarmouth! Wonderful! I told him I was going to visit a friend and was far too dumb to be concerned about what or who this man might be. And I got lucky. Very lucky. At this point, you've all guessed I'm sure, that I picked the wrong end of the province. I was going in exactly the opposite direction of where I wanted to be. This wonderful stranger (and that is most definitely what he was) caught on quickly that I was a runaway and when I told him the name of the person I was looking for, he told me that he didn't recognize the name at all as being one from his hometown of Yarmouth. Still, when we got there, he did everything in his power to try to find that person for me. I finally confessed that it was possible that I'd gone the wrong way and he told me that I had to call my parents and tell them I was in fact alright. I couldn't do that from his place as his wife was out of town and it wouldn't look good for him to have a young girl in his home alone. He found me a place to stay with friends and made that dreadful phone call to my folks for me. How lucky was I? This man could have been a rapist, murderer or both! He wasn't. He was one of the most decent people I've ever come across in my life and I have always remembered him and his extreme kindness to a sixteen year old, messed up, me. I spent the night with strangers, and my guardian angel showed up the next morning and put me on a train home. Amazing! Simply amazing! I will always owe this stranger. And probably never be able to repay him. As a result, pay it forward, means a lot to me.

Yes, these kids could have turned out to be axe murderers. Yes, I could have been making a huge mistake. But I really didn't think so. I brought them in, fed them, gave them a place to nap for an hour or so and made them make the requisite telephone calls to the people who might be concerned about them. They were grateful, respectful, scared kids. And from the parts of the story I got, they probably had reason to be. Home life didn't sound good for these kids or their respective parents. I really have no idea what will happen to any of them. But that's where faith comes in. I did what I believe God would have wanted me to do. I helped a few of his sheep to the best of my ability. Then, I essentially released them back to him.

I feel good about what I did. So while others are now questioning my sanity for sure, maybe, just maybe, I have finally paid my own debt forward.

Oh, and just for the record, after many years, I actually did find my friend at the opposite end of the province. :+)

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Tuesday, July 6, 2010

Bittersweet.....

Well this is odd. I am finally very close to getting what I've wanted since I moved here to Ontario.....home! While this is an awesome (not to mention daunting) thought for me, I find myself thinking of things that I'll miss. Who would ever have thought so?! Certainly not me. I don't mean people. That's always a given. People are always missed.While this province has certainly not yielded a plethora of friends for me, the ones I do have are awesome and I will miss them all terribly. No, this is...stuff. Things. Places even. I'm thinking about the fact that I'll never again live somewhere where my back yard is a park. We have parks a home. So what? Yet there it is. An odd but interesting and sobering thought. I will never again live 5 minutes from the mall. Or look out my window and see College Ave. SO WHAT? What's so special about College Ave.? There are plenty of busy streets at home that I will, in all likelihood traverse often. So why is College Ave. suddenly special? I guess simply because I'll never see it again. The area in which I live has been part of my life for 9 years now and the thought of leaving it, leaves me somewhat nostalgic and a little overwhelmed. But I've always hated it here. So why would I miss it? Change is a strange thing. Especially for me. I don't like it. I never have. It almost seems that in going home I should be righting a wrong that I made all those years ago. But somehow that's not totally the case. I'm going to miss not knowing that if I run into computer problems, my geek buddy and best friend is just a phone call away. Now that one actually makes sense, even to me. That has far more to do with the person than the place. So what is it about the place that suddenly I think I might miss? The lack of water? Um, no. The fast pace? No again. The rather dull autumn colours? Nope. We have much nicer autumns in Nova Scotia. So what is this new and truly weird feeling? I'm really not sure, but it's there just the same.

There are most definitely things that I know I'll miss for good reason. The weather. I love the weather here. Winters can be brutally cold but at least the sun shines! That's great! I love heat (a good thing on a day where it's 33 degrees) and I will miss the early summers. Other than the people, I think I've just run out of things that I can actually put my finger on and say "yes, I'll miss that". But still there remains a feeling of regret for this place that I am now leaving and I cannot for the life of me figure out why. I truly don't like it here. Really I don't. And I truly do miss home. Dreadfully. But knowing that I'm leaving has still left me feeling a little bereft.

So, for those of you who have been good friends, there you have it. I'm finally stumped! And admitting it even! It goes without saying that I will miss some of you so very much. I can't imagine not having you just a phone call away. But I will have others. People however, are irreplaceable and as a result, saying "good bye" to many of you will be incredibly difficult. I'm not looking forward to it at all. Not even a little.

This particular entry is neither well written nor well thought out for that matter. I simply decided to try to put into words at least a little of what I'm feeling right now. Possibly in the hopes that some of you reading this can clue me in? I don't know. But for weal or woe, I have decided to post this little ramble. Who knows, maybe I'll find the brain cells at some point to better express what it is I'm feeling. But before I can do that, I need to feel a little more "settled" in what I am or am not doing. Perhaps therein lies the crux of the problem. Nothing is quite settled yet. Who knows? But whatever this is, it is indeed strange for me. And not at all comfortable.

The thought of going home on the other hand? Well now there's a different story!

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Wednesday, March 24, 2010

The Long and Twisted Road or Things That You Read About But Never Happen In Real Life

Well, as promised in my last post, there is more. Welcome to Part II. And what an incredible Part II it is....at least for me! If you find yourself getting bored...bear with me...it just may be worth it. :+)

They say (the infamous "they" strike again!) that Christmas is a time for miracles. While this doesn't exactly qualify as a miracle, for me it is so truly strange/freaky/wonderful that it at least rated writing about.

One of the neatest things about my Christmas at home was the incorporation of friends in a larger way than ever before into my Holiday. Waking up Christmas morning with my best friend. Sharing Christmas dinner with friends who had come together as "family" and of course, meeting new friends who might eventually rate that precious word "family" to me. Such was my Christmas season. Wonderful old friends and great new ones. One of whom in particular made a special sort of impression on me simply because he was such a nice guy. While nice people are not at all unusual in the Maritimes, it's still always nice to meet new people. This man was great fun. Introduced by my best friend, we quickly found that we had much in common and struck up a nice, easy friendship. We visited him often while I was home for the holidays and we always had great fun. Sharing music,stories, laughter and camaraderie, I had yet another reason for being grateful for being home. Meeting a wonderful new friend. Knowing that eventually I had to return to Ontario, we became Facebook friends in an effort to stay connected at least in some small way. While I know that so many people hate Facebook, I'm not one of them. When you have friends around the world especially, it's a great way to stay connected. It also helps maintain the sense of belonging I feel every time I go home. So Facebook it is. My new friend from home and I are still Facebook friends. And he is still a very sweet man who I proudly call "friend". But, like all good things, my trip home had to end and I had to come back to Ontario. I left NS on January 9th having spent a wonderful New Year's Eve and Day with my friends - old and new and came back with rather a heavy heart. I missed my home and friends already...and that was all while I was still on the plane!

Now I am back in Ontario. It had been a little over a month and life was pretty much the same as life in Ontario always has been. While I do have a few good friends here, nothing can ever compare to what home delivers up to me whenever I am lucky enough to be there. But life goes on and I'm trying to make the best of it. To that end I have decided to try and meet new people. Something, by the way, that for the most of the nine years I've been here, I've abhorred. When first I moved to Ontario I tried everything I knew to "fit in". I joined clubs. I started going to church again. I volunteered. None of it brought me the friends I sought so desperately. At least not for quite a number of years. I did meet a few very special people over the nine year course, but only a few and after trying so hard, in so many different ways and being soundly rejected so often, I finally gave up on new friends in Ontario and decided that the friends that I already had were as many as I would ever have. Thank God they were as awesome as they are or I would never have made it in this province! In any event, I was determined to give making new friends one more shot. Many questioned my methods but I figure that I've tried most of what isn't frowned upon so what the hey....I'll go with something different! So I went a rather non traditional (and a little scary for me) route and lo and behold, I started meeting new people! Go figure! Most of the people I met were not the sort who became close friends, but they were still worthwhile people and I enjoyed spending time with them. Then the really "out of the Ontario way" thing happened. I met a really nice guy! The kind I would consider actually calling "friend"! Here! In Ontario! After nine years! Wow! Cool! He's charming, smart, witty and fun to be around. In short, my kind of people. AND...he introduced me to more much like him! Nice people! Really nice people! Again, people I would certainly consider calling "friend". I've only been back a month and a half and now have a new circle of friends. How cool is that?! Friends are and will always be a treasure that I don't take lightly. When I find them, I pray that they will be able to put up with me and all my idiosyncratic ways and that friendship will truly become a given. At this point, I think I'm well on my way. Who'd a thunk it?! Very, very cool!

So I now have something of a life. Interesting concept for me. A good one, but different. And not just good. Really, truly GOOD. I find myself spending as much time as possible with this new friend and by extension, I get to share his friends. As mentioned, I am a Facebook person. In talking, it was mentioned that he was on Facebook so one day I went to add him as a friend. When I got to the spot on Facebook where you did this, I looked at what I was doing, quickly realized that I had somehow made a mistake, went back to my homepage and started over. There it was again! "You have one mutual friend". ?????? That's not possible. (at this point I actually shook my head for real!) I met this man a few weeks ago and it says here that we have a "mutual friend"?? Okay, let's review. He was born in Bermuda to British parents and spent at least 30 years of his life there. Another chunk of time was spent living in the UK. I spent the first 41 years of my life in Nova Scotia, Canada, then the next nine in Ontario, Canada where I met this person with the really cool past. He's been in Canada 12 years. I've been in Canada all my life. None of this leads me to the path that says "you have one mutual friend". In fact...none of it seems even remotely possible. (I'm still shaking my head). I finally focused enough to actually read who that mutual friend was. GET OUT !!!! No way!! Not possible!! Our "mutual friend" was none other then the wonderful guy I had just met and connected with so well while home for Christmas! What??!! Slowly, very slowly, things started to click in my brain. I remembered my new friend at home talking about his days in the theatre in Bermuda. I remembered a phone call that he received from his "old mate Pete" (name changed to protect the none too innocent!) who he hadn't heard from in years, I remembered the many fascinating stories of sailing and diving the Bermuda waters. I then remembered hearing those same stories from Pete!! These two men, both new found friends of mine, go back years and years! Good grief!! I'm back to the whole NO WAY thing! This stuff doesn't happen in real life. And it certainly doesn't happen to me! And yet it did. I spoke to Pete the next day and got the final confirmation. Yup, two new friends, one in Halifax, NS one in Fergus, ON know one another far better than they know me! To say my mind was blown would be such an understatement as to be a joke but I was totally and utterly gobsmacked! (the two men in question would approve of that word. My nod to them). We're not just talking half of Canada here. This one spans oceans and even entire continents! Yup - gobsmacked it is! Serendipity? God works in mysterious ways? It's a small world? Six degrees of separation? Whatever you call it, it still blows my mind!

So here I am,roughly a month and a half later, with new friends, actually enjoying Ontario since I first arrived and still shaking my head incredulously at the way all of this happened. A miracle? Probably not even close. An incredible gift? You bet. And it all started when, where and how? At Christmas, in Nova Scotia through my best friend! While I realize that Nova Scotia cannot really take all the credit for this one, you have to admit, it is kinda neat!!!

Merry Christmas Rachel!!!

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Friday, March 12, 2010

Home For The Holidays

After 9 years of holidays in Guelph, last Christmas I went home for the holidays for the first time ever. It was amazing. It was an eye opener. It was fun. It was cathartic. It was truly the best way I could have spent Christmas without actually living there. It gave the term "Home For The Holidays" a whole new meaning for me. And it gave me an even greater appreciation of the word "home".

My flight landed at approximately 4:30 in the afternoon and by 8 that same evening, not only was I firmly ensconced in my best friend's home and feeling great, but was on my way to spend time with still another good friend. I've been home less than 4 hours and have already connected with two of my closest friends. This is significant mostly I think because these people do not live in the same house. Or even on the same street. They are mutual friends, but both in their own ways, went out of their way to spend time with me, almost immediately. These are special people. Truly special people. They care and they show it. They are Maritimers. And this is who and what we are and do.(I will always consider myself a Maritimer) We love. We spend quality and quantity time. We are loving, caring, nurturing people. And it shows. Just visit a Maritime province (I highly recommend Nova Scotia). You'll see and feel what I'm talking about.

While scattered and seemingly unfocused, this rather odd intro really is going somewhere. You see, with all due respect to the great Thomas Wolfe, I don't believe his adage "you can't go home again". I used to. I really did. Until I went home and proved him wrong. And I am thrilled that I did!

I spent a month in Nova Scotia after a four year absence. Not just in Nova Scotia but in Dartmouth, the city where I spent the first 41 years of my life until I moved here to Guelph 9 years ago. While I have been back to Nova Scotia, I had not been to Dartmouth in 6 years, so before leaving Guelph, I tried my best to prepare for the inevitable shock that I knew was to come after being gone from home for so long. I wondered at the many changes that must have taken place during my years away. I wondered if the genuineness of the people had changed with the passing years. I steeled myself to accept the changes and enjoy simply being home. Imagine my delight when it finally sunk in that not only was I home, but that "home" had not changed! In fact, it had changed so little that that became the shock. Yes there were new buildings. Yes some buildings were gone. But the essence of my home was the same. Right down to my old stomping grounds! The buildings were still there, though a few had had much needed face lifts but the people and the way of life and the water....let's never forget the water (it's not called The City of Lakes for nothing!)....were all still the same!

In Guelph, I'd spent 9 years watching people run from one appointment to the next. Diaries and calendars at the ready so that a coffee date could be scheduled for a month from Tuesday next. That's life in Ontario. It's the way people are. It's the way things work. It's what is. I don't like it, but it's the way life is lived here. By dates, full schedules and good intentioned but often broken promises. Which is why the first two paragraphs of this entry were what they were. To establish the difference between life in Nova Scotia and life in Ontario, one has to look at how life is lived. And not just lived but accepted as the norm. And in Ontario, I cannot conceive of a circumstance where I could send an email saying "I'm here. Where are you?" and promptly getting the reply "give me an hour and I'll be ready" and actually having it happen! It wasn't planned! It wasn't part of the itinerary. It was unscheduled. It doesn't happen here. It did happen there.It was great! I arrived at the airport, was met by my best friend, drove to her place where I didn't even bother unpacking (My God what was I thinking??), spent a few hours chatting and catching up, then shot off the afore-mentioned email. And then we were three! And the three of us spent a very long, very impromptu, incredibly wonderful evening together. All totally unscripted! (well, except for the airport part but even there the plane was late!). A totally unrehearsed, unplanned, fun filled evening among friends. Copious quantities of coffee were consumed. Very little sleep was had. All in all it was a great night. At home. Wow. What a great welcome home! Then the fun began.

Holidays, especially Christmas I think, mean different things to different people. Ergo, everyone has a different idea of what makes Christmas "special" for them. It's a very individual thing and there is no right or wrong. As long as the happiness is there, it's your holiday. For some it's about friends. For others, presents. Still others feel that immediate family is what it's all about and no one shall encroach upon this sacred ritual. Some look forward to Christmas simply because the food is usually great if not downright spectacular! For me, Christmas is pretty much all of the above. I'd be less than honest if I said that I didn't care about gifts. I do. But in order to be truly appreciated, a gift has to have thought, love and care put into it. Otherwise save your money. In fact, in many cases, saving your money and making me something is absolutely the best way to go for a gift for me! The old adage "it's the thought that counts" didn't get to be an old adage for no reason! I love the food too. I have a sweet tooth that refuses to be denied, especially at Christmas so when those cookies are brought out, make way....I'm coming through!! I do love cookies! Especially the kinds that seem to crop up only around Christmas. And people. What would gifts and cookies and even turkey for that matter be, without wonderful people to share it with? My answer is "not much!". Over the years I have come to realize that blood has little to do with family. My family are those people I choose to love and share my life with. Not necessarily people with whom I share DNA. That's okay. It works and the people I call "family" are all people I love and who love me. That's what families are made of. Love. Simply put. One word. All encompassing. Love. It makes the world go 'round and it creates and sustains families.....no matter what kind of family you have. And that's what my Christmas was. Friends, great food, presents, my own brand of "family" and love. Lots and lots of love. No timetables. No diaries. No loved ones saying "sorry...no time". Real people, doing real things, in real time. Yes people had jobs. Yes there were obligations to be fulfilled. But never at anyone else's expense. No one was ever "left out" because people were "too busy". This, is what home is. This is what I miss so much. This is what I love. And this was my Christmas this year. Home. It means so many different things to so many different people but I think it all boils down to the same thing in the final analysis. If you are where you love and are loved, you are home. I was indeed....home.

And this people, believe it or not, is only Part I!!! Stay tuned! It gets better!
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