Archives for posts with tag: my dad

Still having sleep issues, broke my rule of “no naps over 20min long!” and slept most of the day away.

Up side: Spa appointments booked for Friday, dinner plans for Monday, road trip plans for Tuesday and yes, seeing one of my dearest friends the rest of the week.

Yep, plans are perfectly on track.

After waking from the nap (it took me 2 tries), over to my bro’s place to see his family, my sis-in-law and niece.

Dinner is pizza, which I’ve been wanting and we are relaxing after and –

Phone call from my Dad.

My gram passed away earlier today.

Dad sounds so sad.

I am so sad.

We shed some tears, I’m on the phone and talk about details and what to do and does he want me to come down.

He does.

Call my Uncle ‘cuz Dad has instructed me to get on the same plane as my Uncle and Aunt – we clarify flights and get my tic.

So, yes, dinner plans canceled, road trip plans canceled, hanging with my dear friend, canceled and spa appointments to be canceled.

I guess sometimes it is true, life is the thing that happens when you are making other plans.

Leaving Monday to say good-bye.


Is there anything better than a postcard?

My dad is a pretty cool guy – he has played soccer all his life and continues to play twice a week. Recently, there was some friction with some of his newer team mates about their attitude, time people played and his age. He set everyone straight at the most recent match. Gave them a lecture from one of the founding members and taught them a thing or three about playing as a team and playing with heart.

They won – 8 to 3.

Go dad!

He has been, with his team, to some interesting places – Denmark, Denmark, Hawaii, Germany, Denmark (again) and is now going to Greece.

When I was a kid Mum would always remember to send me plenty of postcards – she also would buy some interesting ones to bring to me. Ok, I never really understood that, but it was neat that she was always thinking of me and bringing interesting postcards.

When ever any of my friends went anywhere they would send me a postcard.

I have postcards from interesting places – Hawaii, Denmark, Scotland, South Korea, Japan, Niagara Falls, Vancouver, Victoria, Nova Scotia, Thunder Bay, Boston and the city where I live – a particularly cheeky friend in the same city just saying “Hi!”

Postcards of the worst possible tourist tripe, with beautiful art, unique ones, standard ones, ones friends made over original postcards, ones with rude words hidden in the pictures, one with embroidery, ones with silly themes, ones made with crayons, ones made with paint and from magazines.

Postcard books featuring favourite artists, themes and movies were bought, ripped up and pasted on walls as art. When inspiration struck, a card would be taken from the wall, a person selected and then an interesting, amusing, romantic or mysterious message sent via postcard.

There was no pressure to fill a page, limited space, messages brief and often ended with “out of space!”

A postcard book of one favourite artist, filled up on the backs by a mini-novella sent away to a treasured friend.

My friends don’t send postcards now. We have other ways to keep in touch. I don’t miss postcards.

Sometimes I miss the bit of art, bit of pic, but not so much. It was never really about the art of the postcard – I like thinking about you, thinking about me while you are having fun on your trip.

I like this, this lack of postcards in my life is a-ok.

But, I’m still receiving postcards.

Not often.

Not regularly.

Enough to make me take notice when I do.

A scrawl I can’t always read – not every word, not on every day.

A way of leaving off the greeting, of jumping right into a stream of thought. The words rushed and seemingly dashed off without breath and sometimes without proper grammar. “toobusytotakeabreathoruseaperiodbuttinkingaboutyouandhadtowrite…”

The news is mundane – facts, only the facts.

No insights.

No news.

I read it.

I’m not sure why I’m getting this postcard.

Why stop in the middle of Las Vegas and pick out a stupid post card?

Why pull out a pen and address it?

Why my updated address on the tip of a pen?

Why bled ink on page without  “hellos”, “and how are yous” or “hope you are fines”?

Why buy a stamp and a mail box and send this to me?

Why think of me at all?

I don’t like thinking of you, thinking of me while you are having fun on your trip.

The postcard now – a thing to cause paper cuts.

Spent the day as a brook – reflective, calm, tripping over rocks with brief detours through dark works, sun soaked meadows, pondering social issues and allowing thoughts to bubble up.

Decided that if ever my dad travels with my mum on the plane again, I’m going to get a companion fare and go with them and then turn around and come back.  People tell me that I think too much, so I reply  “Look what happens when I don’t.” Shouldn’t everyone else think a little more?”

I don’t want to spend my life cutting myself down about things that are never going to be true.  Self-delusion is not a fun sport.  It isn’t even a game. It is a dangerous past time. I think that delusion is responsible for a lot of unhappiness in the world, preventable unhappiness, middle-class unhappiness.  I don’t want you to waste your life cutting yourself down either, so please stop. Step into the light and accept truth.  Then, go from there.

Spent some time chatting about the luxury of being between societal definitions with a friend. Thanks Monica, it is always good to spend time with you, I can always count on you for good conversation and to get my neurons firing.

Today – my most favourite kind of water – smooth, easy and although the journey did not take me far, it was lovely getting there.

This is big day for my family – Elvis Presley’s birthday.

My dad is a huge fan, so he reminded me of this great day last night, before I packed myself off to bed.

My dad would sing Elvis songs while he was doing the dishes and waiting for me to eat my brussels sprouts.  I stayed at the table for ages listening to my dad sing and not eating those sprouts.

I never did learn to love brussels sprouts, but I sure loved hearing my dad sing Elvis, especially Teddy Bear, which remains one of my favourite songs.

Now, my niece loves the same song, which just goes to show you that good taste can run in families.

So, here is to Elvis! Oh, King of Rock and Roll, where ever you are in the universe – Happy, happy birthday.

I envy those aliens.

In other news, I think Friday is a good time for an affirmation.

Here is mine:

“I am not the centre of the universe.

The universe does not revolve around me.

I am not the most important part of the universe.

Things that happen to me are not connected, but coincidental.

I am not the centre of the universe.”

Whew!  I feel so much better

After thinking about it for most of the week, I have realized that I don’t really understand when people say “I’m having a bad day.”

When I hear people say “I’m having a bad day.”  I want to say to them “I’m having a chocolate!”  Remove “bad days” from the menus of the world!  Take something crappy that happened to you and share it with a friend.

Real life examples:

I was coming out of an appointment and thinking very hard about something and not looking where I was going.  Bash!  I walked right into the door jamb.  I quickly looked around for someone to share it with – but no one saw me do it!  Can you imagine a perfect comedic moment and no one saw!  How awful.  The first person who talked to me after this happened I told right away “I walked right into it!  I’m going have a bruise on my face!  It was hilarious!  But no one saw!”

She didn’t think it was as funny as I did – maybe it is because it was my face?

Alternate affirmation:

“It is a computer.

It is a machine that has no power over me.”

And think how lucky we are we don’t give computers bombs – see it can always be worse!

Climbing in the morning.

Extreme cold warning, so stay warm.

Interesting news – there is a new TV medical drama based on “Blood Letting & Miraculous Cures” by Vincent Lam.  Haha, he just said on the radio that “kissing over dead bodies was poor form”.  Great line.