Celebrating My Brothers

On Sunday, June 4, my baby brothers will be 67 years old.

I remember when they were born. We were expecting ONE baby.  Evidently the doctor was not sure there were two babies. She could tell there were extra appendages, but because of their position in my mother's womb, the doctor couldn't hear two heartbeats.

Up-until-their birth, our family was perfect in my eyes. I was three years old. I had an eight-year-old sister, whom I adored, both parents, my maternal grandparents,lots of cousins and aunts and uncles. I really didn't want the change of adding more children to our family! I remember peering into the bassinet and hearing my grandma exclaim, "Two BOYS! We are so lucky!"

Now grandma and I were very close. I knew she loved and valued me, but what I heard in those words was "Girls are not as good nor as desirable as boys. So up to now, they had their girl, my older sister and now they had TWO boys. We don't need another girl. You are one child more than we need."

None of this was true.

Coincidentally, just after their births, I had to have my tonsils removed. It was my first trip to a hospital. I thought the nurses were mean and they treated me like a baby. Imagine! I had to sleep in a crib. I had been sleeping in a regular bed with my sister for several months. Likely to free up a crib for my brother(s.) The prevailing "wisdom" was that mothers couldn't have any contact with their children while they were in the hospital. So little did I know, my mommy had come to see me every day, for ten days, but had to peak in when I was asleep.

I was a child of great imagination. I knew that Mommy had gone to the hospital to get my brothers. I assumed my family didn't need me anymore and they were taking me back. I was terrified and I was heart-broken. I didn't even smile for the ice cream when my throat was recovering.

As children, my brothers were pests to me. I was trying to carve out a place of importance for myself and these two interlopers were budging in. We didn't seem to have much in common. They even spoke a strange twin language. They called each other Dodi and Nonny. To make matters worse they seemed to be good in sports in which I often played drawback. So my jealousy and insecurity got in the way of really getting to know them.

When our mother made her transition last year, they both spoke at her service. I saw that they were kind, sensitive and loving. They did her proud. She was proud of all her children. Both brothers have children of their own, interestingly they had boys. And they are lucky! And so am I to be their auntie.

Happy birthday to my brothers Gerald Roy Neil Clark and John Douglas Lorne Clark.

Adorable baby boys Johnny (Nonny) and Gerry (Dodi)

Lela Clark and her 5 children
Gerald, Heather, Kathryn, Cheryl, John

Mothers Day Thoughts

This Sunday, May 14, is Mothers' Day. It is a day set aside to express gratitude for the women who gave us birth, and the men and women who were our first care-givers. Each of us has her own story of how successfully our mothers gave us models for raising our own children. In my opinion, motherhood can be the most thankless job; yet it is the most important one for living a life that is healthy-minded.  Our mothers are our first gods. They held the power of life and death over us. They were responsible for our physical and emotional care. They fed us, clothed us and by their words and  example showed us what love is;our understanding of the nature of love paved the way for all our relationships.

There is a powerful quote that is attributed to many people including Jonas Salk,

"Good parents give their children roots and wings. Roots to know where home is, wings to fly away and exercise what's been taught them."

My parents gave me roots and wings. I am living in Southern California, my parents, who had both been born and raised in the Canadian prairies, still lived within one hundred miles of their places of birth at the time of their passing. 

Two years ago, when my mom had a stroke and while she was still in the hospital she was struggling to ask me something. The stroke had left her weak. She finally managed to say,

"Why do you live so far away?"

I was very sad and did not have an answer. My inner answer seemed to be selfish and shallow. I was living my dream of being a New Thought minister in paradise. I was living where I wanted to be.

Lela Eugenia Clark, my mother, made her transition on June 23, 2016. She was not a woman without flaws. She had her own insecurities as well as an abundance of strengths: she modeled creativity, commitment, leadership and fierce independence. I am very grateful that she was my mother. Some traditions say I chose her. 

I talk to her when I see butterflies when I am out walking. I talk to her when I see a pair of doves building a nest, knowing she is now with my dad again.

And now, I can answer the question:

"Mom, I am living so far away because you did such an amazing job in giving me roots and wings."

Of the three daughters in the photo below, my oldest sister, Kathy stayed close to home, my baby sister Cheryl has lived in Calgary for thirty years, about nine hours away, and I have lived here in paradise for 24 years. Good job, Mom. 

Happy Mothers Day to all mothers. 

Lela Clark and daughters Kathy, Cheryl & Heather

Honoring My Mother

Lela Eugenia Clark will celebrate her 95th birthday this Saturday, December 19. She hasn't won a Pulitzer prize, or found a cure for an incurable disease, or even received a gold watch from her employer, but she raised five children, nurtured seven grandchildren and four great grandchildren. I am the second child.

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Happy Birthday Mom

Mom has been very active all her life until the last year when she had a small stroke and now lives in a Nursing Home.

I have not seen her since May and am looking forward to seeing her at Christmas.

In tribute of her upcoming birthday, I am going to share some of her strengths.
Lela Clark could whip up a costume at a moment's notice. She was a great seamstress whose  creative imagination was always at work. When I was still preschool age, for Halloween Mom made my sister and I Peter Pumpkin Eater and his wife. I was the wife in a pumpkin shell. I do not remember how she made the shell but I do remember it was as big around as I was tall. Both my sister and I participated in figure skating, which meant lots of costumes every year. She always knew what was in fashion, and sewed an entire wardrobe for me to begin University.

Lela contributed to her community. For most of my school years, Lela was the superintendent of our Sunday School. She organized all the classes and crafts, scheduled the teachers and arranged for the music. Like everyone in our small town, she contributed to the church's fowl suppers in the fall. She was a member of the Eastern Star, participating locally and internationally.

Mom was a good athlete, flexible, strong and coordinated. She excelled in both curling and shuffle board. It was common for her to bring home a trophy from whatever sport she played.Not only was Mom a great athlete but she was a loyal and noisy fan. While she and dad were snowbirds, they attended spring training games in Phoenix. She came to love football in the recent years and is a Riders fan. Whenever there was a family member playing anything -- baseball or hockey she would enthusiastically cheer. She made no attempt to be nice to the referees and once she was even asked to leave the game because she had been boisterously disrespectful to an umpire! 

Lela's family is most important to her. For several years she kept in touch with those of us who live far away via Skype. Now that her eyesight is failing, she can no longer use Skype. I miss the everyday conversations. 

Since the spring Lela has resided in a Nursing home in Saskatoon. Her eyesight is fading and watching television no longer brings her joy. Both my younger sister and I will be in Saskatoon for the Christmas holidays.  I am looking forward to seeing my mom.

How to Avoid Holiday Overload

It’s the first week of December and my calendar is full. We have school functions, water polo tournaments, church functions, family visits and myriad other holiday-related activities that seem to punctuate most people’s calendars this time of year. Adding anything else at this point will require some serious juggling, and possibly forms - filled out in triplicate, I suspect...

 There is always a lot going on at our house – and I like it that way. I do not, however, like the stress that comes with being over-scheduled. As we entered this month, I was already feeling a little over-committed. I knew that I needed to do something.

Fortunately, last month Dr. Heather’s focus was meditation, and I was inspired to develop the habit of starting my day with a morning meditation. What a difference a few minutes of daily meditation makes! (I’d like to tell you that I have consistently meditated every morning, but I have missed a few… which is how I can tell you that I notice the difference when I don’t do it.)

If you haven’t started meditating, I encourage you to start with Deepak Chopra’s guided meditations. You can find more information here.

The holiday season is considered by most people to be a time of joyous celebration. It’s a time for gathering together with those you love.

So what is it about the Holiday Season that causes some people to stress-out and go overboard?

National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation is probably one of my favorite holiday movies. Who cannot relate, at least a little, to Clark Griswald’s desire to create the perfect Christmas for his family? We all sympathize as he carries on despite Fate throwing curve after curve at him. He finally snaps, but only when it appears that he has let his family down. He can shrug off disaster after disaster, but the thought of personally disappointing his family is more than he can bear, and he loses it. How many of us live under that type of self-imposed pressure during the holidays?

I could feel myself nearing the edge, and I did not want to go there. So, I set my attention on the intention of keeping this holiday season as stress-free as possible, despite the many activities my children, husband and I are involved in.

During my meditation, I posited the question: what needs to happen to keep this holiday season as happy, bright, joyful and connected as possible for me and my family?  

The answer that I received was to schedule “downtime” into my calendar each week. It’s not an answer I would naturally gravitate to, but I am going to trust the wisdom of my inner guidance. I know that the idea of scheduling downtime probably sounds obvious to some of you, but I am one of those can’t-just-sit-and-watch-TV types. I don't do downtime well, but I am really good at multi-tasking! I have blocked the Friday evenings as family/downtime (not all of my Fridays were open, so I used Sunday evening as an alternate). We have more Fridays open than Sundays this month, so it worked better, but I suspect Sunday will be the regular day if I decide to continue this beyond the holidays.

What will I do with my downtime? I hope to spend it with my family (or those family members who are available – I’m not going to increase my stress level by turning this into an attendance required activity). Maybe we will drive around to look at Christmas lights, or watch a holiday movie, or just take a walk. Maybe I’ll convince my children to put away their electronics and play Scrabble or Monopoly. Maybe we will bake some cookies… as long as it is fun! I do not intend to use the time to start a project – no cleaning out closets or reorganizing the garage.

There is no doubt that the holiday season brings its own special stress. Whether it’s the cantankerous, eccentric relatives, or the turkey that wouldn’t cooperate, there will likely be moments that threaten to push you to the limit. When that happens, actually, preferably before that happens, take some time to ask yourself what you need from this holiday season. The answer might be far simpler than you think. 

ONCE UPON A LIFETIME

To my spiritual family...

There is no closing door that can refuse Life nothing that can staunch Its movement.

It has forever been a river whose origin is Divine and it flows inexorably back to that Ocean.

Once upon a lifetime I believed I could hold each moment as an exquisite jewel, that the Universe was no longer expanding, and I expounded as a child, without vision or clarity.

I swam against the tides and waves and currents until, exhausted, my battered soul washed up on the shore of this blessed place and here I saw the face of Peace.

Even then did I still clutch at the smoke and sand that was my warped remembering.

I held in my hand the priceless pearl with only the merest glimmering of recognition.

Something pulled my consciousness and pushed me to pursue the connection between thought and that which is thought of; in that process I discovered Love.

This was, and continues to be an unfoldment that has no real beginning, and it is the thread of an infinite tapestry that has no borders.

As it unfurls, my world grows ever greater.

Every corner turned is an adventure for me now.

I sail through storms and float in waking dreams knowing that all uncertainty is spoken for by the Mind and Power that has gifted me with life.

Now do I see that wall, once formidable and tall is an ever-opening portal to the real Thing, and every answer I seek, when found, begs another question, forever and ever.

My realization is that explanations explain nothing and that the voyage to knowledge and wisdom is endless, that the impermanence of human life makes it all the sweeter.

And the only thing of true import in this temporality is Love Itself.

And here I have found that Love in forms and ideas, in people, and in the inspired doing that is music.

It is the compassion and caring that carries all lovers through.

It is the force of creation that makes all things new.

This is my home; this the well from which I draw that which quenches me.

This is my family; you are the ones who lift me from my darkness.

And these are they who gently hold my love, that I will not fly away.

God is here, and all of you are His face and Her grace.

-Written by Rick Dale, Singer/Songwriter/Poet

Where is Home?

Where do you call home?

I was born in  a tiny prairie village. I was raised in another tiny village. For my early years this was my home. I spent my young adult life on the prairies. Recently I returned to Saskatchewan to visit my mother. Especially in the summer, there is a great beauty and feeling of vastness there. I had forgotten how far one can see in the open prairies, the beautiful ever-changing skies and the constantly blowing wind.  I no longer call it home or even have a twinge of nostalgia about it. I love living in southern California. However, I also saw reflected old-fashioned values of kindness, compassion, courage and consideration.

There have been many places that have been home to my mother. Of course, the one I most strongly resonate with is a house that my dad designed and built (with lots of help) in the village of Conquest, Saskatchewan. From there, Mom and Dad moved to Saskatoon to a bungalow which had lots of memories for me. It was there that  I hosted my first large family dinner. I was 22 years old and with not much sense, invited my in-laws for Christmas. My parents, who were vacationing in California, loaned me their home. I cooked for 26 people that Christmas day...two meals dinner and supper.  The first turkey dinner was scheduled for noon. I think I finally served it at 1:30 PM. (I really missed my mother who would have been able to coach me through that ordeal.) Many years later my parents moved to a modest apartment and bought  a travel trailer in Mesa; they spent many years as snow-birds.  their home in Arizona was filled with friends, playing cards and talking about their most recent shuffleboard. games. Their home in Canada was a place the family gathered.  Even after my dad made his transition in 1993, Mom still lived six months in each place. It worked well for her while her friends were still in the trailer park and worked well for me because I could see her more often. Then Mom moved into a senior living apartment. Now she is living in a personal care home.

My mother's room overlooks a beautiful flower and vegetable garden in which she likes to walk and sit. Because people were raiding the garden, the home but a lock on the gates. They gave the code to the residents but my mother's eyesight is rapidly deteriorating so she was concerned that she couldn't see the numbers and letters on the lock. I suggested that she could memorize the placement of the numbers and letters. She did. Almost immediately she had it mastered.  Although one of her faculties is dimming, she used her memory to compensate. She felt great. I am reminded how important freedom and autonomy are to all of us.

In her new home, Mom is surrounded by 29 other seniors and provided for by care givers. She has three meals a day with her new friends. Sometimes they gather for conversation, sometimes they just sit quietly with one another. One morning when I returned to visit Mom she was excited to tell me that the previous night, her care giver, Anna, had danced for them. I didn't know what to imagine. Mom explained that Anna had just recently returned to work after knee and hip surgery. She brought some music with her and danced with joy, first by herself and then with  another resident. She simply was filled with joy of being alive. By dancing by herself, she gave permission to all the residents to fully be themselves. It was a beautiful gift she gave.

Mom was very sad to see me leave because I don't know when I will be able to return. Still she sees me on Skype almost daily. I am glad I got to see her new home, and meet her new friends.  I am very happy to be home, here in southern California where the palm trees remind me I am living my dream now!

Saskatoon in winter

How Evolved Are You? Visit Your Family - Part 2

Last week I posted a blog about the anticipation of visiting my drama-ridden family in Pennsylvania.

I had mentioned a saying I once heard, "If you want to know how evolved you are, visit your family for three days."

So, after almost eight years of being away from my family, I set off for a 12 hour drive with my kids and my mom to visit our family in Pennsylvania...the family I had left at the age of 18 and rarely visited since.

I was worried about the drama.  I was worried about the lower energy.  I was worried about what would happen.

Well, contrary to everything I know, my worry was simply worrying about something that hadn't happened....

....and, to my surprise, it didn't.

After traveling so far, I took time to reconnect with my cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents, etc. and sat up night after night reminiscing about old times.

We had a picnic in the very spot in the yard of my grandmother's house that we had spent so many summers in the past.

My kids saw lightening bugs for the first time.

Catching Lightening Bugs

They experienced my crazy uncle throwing boxes of firecrackers into the fire scaring the sh*t out of all of us as he did EVERY summer that we picnicked in that same spot.

We went horseback riding.

We laughed, we hugged, and we remembered good memories....forgetting to bring up the old, not-so-memorable ones.

Was there drama going on around us?  

Of course.

Did I notice it?

Not really?

What I noticed were the family members who wanted to catch up.

What I noticed was the quiet beauty all around me that I took for granted all those years growing up in Pottstown....the rolling farmland, the blackest black of night, the lightening bugs, the deafening sound of crickets.

I noticed the kids of my cousins laughing with my own boys.

I noticed the love that our family has for each other that sometimes is blinded by the arguing that goes on.

Mostly, I noticed how far I have come in my own mind.

I could have gotten involved in the gossip or drama going on, but I chose to notice the beautiful love deeply embedded in my family.

As I returned back to South Carolina in another 12 hour drive, I noticed how well-behaved my kids were.

The worry I had going into this trip was all for naught.

Another reminder that worry is all about something that hasn't happened, and if we are aware enough of our thinking, probably won't happen.

Thank you, Universe for this amazing reminder, this amazing family I have, and this amazing life I am living!

I am truly grateful.