Falling For Golf

Dundee is a wonderful golf course in Cape Breton. Theresa and I stayed at this golf resort during our summer adventure. It called for rain in the morning but sunny in the afternoon as we debated whether we should keep our 9.30 am tee off time. Being golfers we chose to go anyway. It had rained most of the night and the fairways were pretty well soaked and creeks full with fresh rainfall.

We teamed up with a local who was a good golfer and knowledgeable about the course. He guided us along and explained the little quirks about each hole. When we came to the signature hole he proudly took us to the front of the tee box and pointed to the green some 150 ft below and surrounded by sand bunkers. Running across the fairway was a stream rushing down a grade along what appeared to be an erosion ditch. Keep away from that he explained with a smile.

He and Theresa were safely close to the green but my shot was somewhere down near that ditch. Theresa elected to drive the cart around and I decided to walk down the hill to find my ball. Scrambling through bushes and wet from the still rained on trees and grass I approached the ditch. It was deeper than I thought and wider as well. Actually it was 6+ feet deep and 6 feet wide. The flowing water was about a foot deep . I looked around for my ball and spied it on the other side of the ditch.

I could walk 300 feet up the hill to the cart path or down the same distance and cross through a swamp. Neither entered my head as I was a pretty good jumper in my day. With my 8 iron in my left hand and my putter in my right I crouched and with a mighty effort jumped that ditch. For a second all was well until the ground under my feet gave way. Backward I tumbled and my back came in contact with the bank and my feet pointing skyward gave me no option. I dropped the clubs and reached down to keep from getting soaked and for a moment I was wedged between the two banks supported by my arms , now covered up to my elbows in water.

There was no way out, I had to drop to the water and try to escape. Reaching to retrieve my clubs and at the same time climb out of this mess with some dignity was not achieved. The ditch was as deep as I am tall and I literally scratched and clawed my way to safety. By now I was being watched by my smirking golfing partners. They had little sympathy for my bruised hip and back to say nothing of my embarrassment and wet golfing attire.

As I hit my ball onto the green and trudged up to take my turn putting, I could only say,"son of a ditch".

Winter Comes Early In The Arctic

Around this time of the year the late fall turns into winter. There is no warning but the animals know. Late August the caribou migrate to the south shore of the North West Passage (NWP) and browse for some nutritious food. They wander almost in a daze with one thing in mind, get over the passage and head south on the mainland. I lived on Victoria Island , home to a huge herd of caribou.The caribou cross the 60 miles over the ice when it is strong enough. One year hundreds were lost when the tried to cross on bad ice. Their bodies were taken by the Inuit and used as dog food.

Muskoxen who live along the coast begin to move inland to unknown hid outs where they use their thick coats to keep warm and big feet to scrape away the snow and ice to find nourishing Arctic Willow. They disappear only to reappear in late June.

The ground or tundra becomes rock hard and ice freezes along with the puddles and small ponds. The Salt water of the NWP freezes quickly but heavy wind turns the ice into a messy mixture of ice clampers and pressure ridges.

The Mute Swans gather at Swan Lake near the passage and the young ones go off every day to test their wings. Anxious parents observe this time proven ritual and meet their youngsters with chatter as if to give encouragement and advice. Some scolding takes place when the fledglings act out. The swans wait for a heavy south wind to help start their journey on a high note.

The tell tale sign is the lack of sunshine. The sun quickly begins to fall further and further below the southern sky and the wind ,once friendly begins to bite and sting to remind you that winter is around the corner.

People bring out their warm clothes and mothers take extra time with their needles preparing mittens and coats for their children and hunters. I personally loved the winters with the low temperatures of -30 degrees Celsius was a warm day. My preparations were obvious and I checked the snow machine, updated my komitick (sled) and cleaned the rifles for winter use.

I still think of those days between summer and winter in the Arctic with warm feelings.

Peach Time

Every year I have to make a decision which is difficult because of a struggling Peach Tree. Six years ago we had a bumper crop of peaches and they were ready to be picked but I put it off one more day. Usually the raccoons tell me it is time to pick the luscious fruit but that year I never heard or saw a coon near the tree.

We went to bed confident in the fact that tomorrow would be peach day. After midnight a storm blew into my neighbourhood and the rain came down in torrents. I jumped out of bed, in reality I crawled out of bed and made my way to close the window. It was too late to avoid all the rain but the sound I heard quickly made me wake up. A loud snap and crash as my peach tree burdened with the extra weight from the rain split my beloved tree in two.

As I looked out of the window I saw the peach tree in a crumpled mess. I decided to go back to bed and deal with the mess in the morning. I awoke early and confronted the poor tree lying on its side with the fruit in disarray. I carefully cut one half of the tree and the other half sprung to its original place.

I picked the peaches and looked to assess the damage. I felt I should cut it all down but seeing the strength shown by the other half I decided to give it a chance. That was six years ago and every year I get a good crop of peaches. Every year I feel it will not make it through the cold winter but every spring it is covered with beautiful blossoms. How could I cut it down?

Theresa and I plucked the fruit this year and looked at the joint of the tree so damaged that again I feel I should cut it down. After considerable discussion we decided to wait another year.

In the meantime Theresa made the best peach crisp and tomorrow we are having a birthday for Doris who will be 92 and we shall have more of the same. How could I end the life of this tree given to us as an anniversary gift by Doris on her b'day?

Our peach tree will live one more year.

Africa

Africa is a place that dreams are made of and the many stimuli we have used to make a mythical picture comes short of the real thing. My daughter and grand daughter are going to Africa next summer and wish to include me in their plans. I wish to go with them but my wife would not consider the journey. Theresa is adventurous but Africa is not on her agenda.

Free the Children sponsor these trips which permit people like me , who have supported the program to be immersed in the actual activities on the ground. You see first hand the work of building schools and support infrastructure for children in Africa and elsewhere. I am torn between the cost for me to have a dream fulfilled, against a adventure involving both of us.

In recent years Theresa and I have been more aware of the needs in far off countries where a little help can make a vast difference in the life of many. I share this view with family members who are well aware of this calling. My grand daughter has been involved in building a school in Costa Rica whereby she and classmates funded the project and went to Costa Rica and actually help build the school.They built more than a school as their involvement built a strong sense of commitment to helping the less fortunate and built a bridge of trust between themselves and their off shore friends.

To travel to Africa would be something of a rare opportunity for three generations of our family to participate in this worthy cause. The bonus would be to photograph the fauna and flora of the great plains and to smell the Africa we so many times saw depicted by Hollywood. The next few days will be difficult for me to decide, and right now I almost talked myself in taking the plunge and saying yes.

Senate Appointments

Our Prime Minister promised that when he was the person in control of the appointments to our Senate, he would be transparent. He is not transparent, as he broke all of his promises and is the same as all the past PM - he went to the party hacks in his appointments.

I shall never trust a conservative PM who promised to have elections for the office of Senator and then make the most blatant twenty appointments in our country's history. All are conservative hacks and in some cases - without merit - totally beyond the hope for something different.

This PM is a disgrace to truth and promise of something different. He has been a utter disappointment on the world scene and as a person whose agenda which will lead this nation from a caring to a right wing country, all for the rich venue. I had hoped for better but we have received less than we expected.

The next few months will see our country faced with another election and I hope the next leader will be a caring, honest person who will not micro-manage the parliament and leave some room for members to voice their opinions. We still have a vote in the next election.

Ted

When you hear the word Kennedy you think of wealth, power, greed, family and most of all, service. Ted was the greatest of them all and if you take away the negatives, you have a man who left his mark on the USA and the world. People often use the word liberal in a sense not understood. Ted was a true liberal and reached out way beyond the American way to a course of action to right a litany of injustices.

He and his brothers used the power of the White House to bring about social justice in regard to racial equality. Jack and Bobby gave their life for the cause and Ted came along and for decades he went the extra mile in changing minds and outdated thinking to see the racial question resolved. The changes were not immediate but Ted took every opportunity to push his agenda.

On the world scene he was deeply involved in South African politics and was a prime mover in helping Mandela receive his freedom and become a world leader and spokesman for racial equality everywhere.

Ted voted against the war in Iraq. This was a risky and brave move for a cause he describes as unconscionable. He was vindicated later when the facts were known to the world and suffered no political downside.

Perhaps Ted's most personal and successful triumph was in his beloved Ireland. He regularly met with the leadership of Northern and South Ireland attempting to bridge that gap of ignorance and religious prejudice which ripped the gut out of this nation. He could have been the flag bearer when the Catholic and Protestant women of Northern Ireland marched down the streets of Belfast saying that enough was enough.

A blog cannot fairly describe the life of a man like Ted but my thoughts just skimmed the many great achievements of Mr. Edward Kennedy.

Adam Travels West

Adam is my oldest grandson. He has had an exciting life so far and plans to make it more so as he heads to BC to continue his studies at UBC. As a baby he was beautiful and had some brains to match. He was every ones child and was handed one to the other when he was visiting. Very athletic but a little low key for a future in competitive sports. He excelled at hockey and played AAA midget for our town.

Adam has a large extended family in the Portuguese community and an equally large family on our side. He learned the value of food and ate all the special dishes of fish prepared by his grandmother. When we know he is coming to dinner we always add a few more potatoes and meat to make sure he has enough. We never have leftovers when he is around.

Adam took a year off university to travel to Australia to experience the beach life and from all accounts he did. When he returned earlier than expected due to a family death he began to think of the future and it included finishing off his college degree.

We never expected Adam to go so far away, but he had a plan, and probably a plan B for his life in BC. We will miss him but I bet he will be home for Xmas. His little brother already misses him and will have to give his attention to someone else like his big sister.

I left home at a young age never to return except for visits, and it was the best decision I made. Adam will look at this decision as I did and prove to everyone that he is no longer a boy, but a man - and a darn good one at that.

Old Masters

Golf is a great game for all ages but becomes an adventure for our group of old masters. We play every Tuesday at a golf course that is supposed to be within 50 km and cost no more than $50. A captain is responsible for the arrangements and notifies all about the details. The email is the language of communication and every member of our group has access to a computer.

Our members have more medical conditions than you could shake a stick at but manage to make it to the course on time, or nearly always. We compete for the $16 prize each week and have bragging rights for the 7 days before a new champ emerges because of their 35 handicap. The average age would be 75+ and some well over 80.

I look forward to Tuesday to gossip, exchange medical advice and hear descriptions of the great shot they made during the week. We are a cordial group but little petty power struggles arise when a course is picked not to the liking of some but we live with it.

I think we have good attendance because our wives chase us out of the house so they have some peace and quiet. In any case we old fogies have a good time and miss the game and friends when winter interrupts our passion for golf.

Aite Breagh

As a youngster I had the opportunity to attend the church summer camp at Orangedale, Cape Breton. All of our family attended this camp and all had the same basic reaction. This camp , although church funded and directed gave we kids the opportunity to be together with about 100 others of the same age and engage in activities so inviting that you never forget the experience.

Bible study, morning watch, breakfast and then activities. Morning watch was a time when you go some place alone and think about your place in the group, your home, the world and your relationship with a higher power. I used this time to try to imagine who God was and the role he or she would play in my life. Even then I had difficulty in perceiving God as a power which would send his son to earth to save your soul and make it possible that you could get to heaven. As a 12 year old this was a heavy duty chore. I tried and never reached the point where I was comfortable with the concept.

Sports and water events allowed us to forget the lofty ideals and to be kids again. Ten days of this and the camaraderie developed at meal time and campfire brought us so close that departing was a painful experience and there was not a dry eye when we departed to our homes. I personally attended this camp for 5 years and it left a mark on my life and stirred my curiosity about all things philosophical. My major at university drew me to even more questions than answers.

Today with every child coming in contact with religions and culture so different than our own there are options.Young people could be well served if the camp model could include not only people who think alike and practise a similar cultural way of life but include people with diverse backgrounds and cultural mores. This would enable our young people to function in our multicultural society secure in their own beliefs, but accepting others openly.

Aite Breagh meant bend in the river or lake, and it prepared us for what was around the bend in real life. I shall always be grateful for that experience.

Home Again

Arriving at my door after 10 hours of driving gave me a that satisfying feeling of being home again. Thoughts of sleeping in my own bed and being around familiar creature comforts like my big leather chair quickly changed to near panic as I saw the condition of my yard. Grass overgrown, tomatoes ready to be picked and made into spaghetti sauce, peaches clinging to the tree but really ripe, and weeds which went unchecked for a while boldly stood as high and straight as the beets and carrots.

It was supper time so we managed to put together a sandwich made from fresh bread and just picked tomatoes. My daughter always stocks up necessary items like milk, bread and cheese and she did not fail one more time. We lingered over the small lunch and put off doing anything else except unpacking and a quick assessment of tomorrow's work.

Our longer than usual trip down home satisfied our need to connect with family and friends but left us drained emotionally. We did all we set out to do and more so were happy to be home. During our expedition we attended a teachers reunion, discovered the Gaspe, buried a brother, enjoyed a family get together, visited a long-time friend in Pictou and gathered up our mother in law at Sussex and drive home.

Today I picked tomatoes, beans, cut the lawn and caught up on the 135 emails. There really was no need to panic at the work as a few hours and our place looked great. It is like life - there seems to be large issues to face but when you get to the solution, you realize that the issue was mostly in our own minds. Face issues head on and see how quickly they disappear and the solution usually opens doors to free you of your anxiety.

Today I am privileged to have such a rewarding support group of relatives, family and friends. Each has a special role in my life and I value each for their uniqueness and ability to add something to my overall well being. I pity the person who has no family, no real friend nor special one to complete their life.

Coming home

Leaving Cape Breton and heading for our second last stop at Pictou gives us a chance to reflect on our journey.We are being chased by Bill and hope to stay ahead of it as we speed up the Trans Canada. Here in Cape Breton we met, bonded and laughed together for four days and felt like a great family and extended family.

The renewed feelings so often missed became real again and to see the nephews and nieces socialize gave Theresa and I a warm feeling. Good news about my brother as he had a major operation for cancer and was able to join us a few days later. A unexpected meeting with my niece and husband on the boardwalk resulting in a good visit closed out our visit in CB. It was a perfect ending on an evening filled with a perfect sunset and positive vibes with this young couple.

Theresa and I look forward to sharing our little adventure with family and friends but not before one more feed of fresh cooked lobster at the Straits of Canso.

Home Sweet Home

Theresa and I love to travel. We have been away for 10 days and are turning around to begin our way home. My thoughts always are about my tomatoes, fruit trees and of course the children when they are out of sight. I guess I have that feeling of wishing to be in two places at one time.

Of all our little trips, this one was to a large extent - unscripted. We however fitted in the busiest schedule ever and managed to accomplish all this, and still have time for spontaneous happenings. Last eve was a special occasion as our family gathered at my brother David's home for a post-burial party. About 40 people attended including all siblings and nephews and nieces. The minister happened to be a close family friend and he delivered a down home service which made everyone feel comfortable and free to participate.

For a short period of time we were a family again. The lesson here is to carry over that feeling and extend the bonding when there is no special circumstance except belonging to a family. Our family is advancing in age and our numbers have diminished from 11 to 7. How sad it would be to wait until we are 6 before we meet again.

The people who gain the most from these get-togethers are the children who see the value of family first hand. I observed the interaction among the children and adults and was impressed. It was reminiscent of times when our family used to go to Gross Point for Sunday picnics and mixed with the many other cousins and friends. This social mixing is the stuff memories are made of.

I look forward to many more of the same in the future.

Musings of Cape Breton

Having lived less than a quarter of my life in Cape Breton I suppose that I am presumptive in calling myself a Caper.I do have deep feelings for the place and when I am asked from where I came my reply is given without hesitation that I am a Caper.To qualify for this distinction you must be born here or lived here for a time.It is a charming place and has much to offer folks who choose to live and die here.

Theresa and I are staying at a good hotel in Sydney and she told the lady who was making our bed that she had bad allergies. The lady stated she too had allergies and she would go and get her some Advil allergy medication. Where else would this happen. We have had similar expressions of hospitality and it takes you by surprise.In busy and detached communities we rarely have time for the niceties which are part of the Cape Breton culture.

As we wander through the days without an agenda, the slow pace of life becomes a point of envy. People here are very good at doing nothing with a purpose, and enjoying the simple tasks of life that to we in the fast lane, would call boring. I don't suppose I could ever get used to this way of life on a long range term, but it sure feels good for a short time. Vacations are designed to charge those lifesaving batteries and Cape Breton is the place to start the process.

We will get together with family and friends today after the burial of the ashes of my brother who wished to be buried Down Home, and find our way over the Road to the Isle - and quietly slip away to our other life. Who is to say which life is better? They both have their merits.

Driving down a road well travelled

Returning to territory you once travelled offers rich rewards for those who choose to let their mind do the driving. 55 years ago I left my home in Cape Breton to make my way into the unknown experiences that would frame my life. Through the years that followed numerous adventures and challenges drew me further from my roots.

Every year with an odd exception, I - like the birds who fly south for winter - am drawn to once again to go East to the sea for a recharging of my mental and spiritual batteries. On my yearly journey I have no expectations, no goals and no plans for what will take place. The closer I get to the sea the more excited I become, and new energy emerges. I feel freer and step with a quicker pace.

My mind returns to older times and visualizes long gone events with remarkable clarity. Every turn of the road paints new pictures from old happenings. My wife is overwhelmed from hearing the same experiences repeated yearly. My mind somehow corrects wrongs, forgives bitterness and writes mental pictures that satisfy my need for happiness. Whenever a negative idea creeps in there is a rejection of this invader who wishes to ruin my perfect memory.

The pilgrimage is never complete, and the journey has to be repeated year after year. Something occured this time which made the past pattern only a memory. With sudden clarity, I realized that this need to relive my past and to examine the life issues was an expression of a life not yet satisfied with what I have achieved, and a need to develop new credible, achievable goals for the future.

For the rest of my journey I shall enjoy the scenery, the friends, and the life I have lived, knowing that the next time I pass this way, I shall have achieved other interesting experiences.

On a road well travelled you can look back, or you can look ahead ... I choose to look forward.

Gaspe

For over 50 years I have been driving from Ontario to Cape Breton down the Trans-Canada Highway. Never did I stop to think about making that route change and experiencing the most exiting and picturesque drive by leaving Riviere De Loup and taking that highway along the coast of the Gaspe.

Theresa and I were totally entertained the whole time while travelling about 700 kms along the rugged coastline.The road hugged the shoreline and we were never far from the water. Over every hill came a vista so beautiful that you thought you were going over the Cabot Trail several times. Villages were present at the head of every bay and inlet. We never saw a home or yard that was not cared for.

We stopped and took pictures, had lunch and talked to the locals. The people we met were proud of their culture and accommodated us even thought our French was not that good. The rock at Pierce was spectacular and we met people who shared the knowledge of the area that made our visit meaningful. There was so much to learn that we will have to revisit and take more time. I loved the area and would make it a must road trip if you wish to experience French hospitality and culture at its best.

Why Wait?

In the last eight weeks I lost a brother and a brother-in -law. In the emotional days following, there was an outpouring of love and friendship that was absolutely incredible. Brothers and sisters phoned and friends appeared out of nowhere. Family came together and we all had a great family hug.

How sad that it is death that brings together family who really love and are concerned about each other, but somehow let other things get in the way of that letter, telephone call or email. I am a person who tries to communicate. I have phoned some members of my family over the last 50 years and never received a phone call back. I make an effort to keep the lines open but I sometimes get a response that is so pitiful, that I could get angry. However I refuse - because the people who do not respond really are the losers. Hearing the voice of that family member gives me great satisfaction and makes it all worth while.

Why do we allow opportunities to escape and moments to be lost by not keeping in touch? This sounds like a rant - and it is - as I have been frustrated for years with the folks who sit back and come out of the woodwork at weddings and funerals. I am dedicated to trying to be a facilitator and communicator so our family and friends are in the loop. How great it is to hear of a new baby, a promotion, a birthday, or just a hello.

Tonight I feel lonesome for the people who are my family and friends but are invisible. We can do better and I will try to help ...

Murray's Journey

During the last ten years or so I was able to visit my brother Murray a few times. He chose to live in a very beautiful town in the East Kootneys of BC. This is one of the most beautiful and rich areas of Canada. Natural scenery and wonderful , rich soil in the valley provides the backdrop for fruit growing and agriculture. Who would not be happy in these circumstances?

Surrounded by all this Murray should have been very happy. Every time my sister Glenda or I talked to him he always said he would love to go home one more time. He spoke of the old days when life was simple and he related to family and friends. He longed for a reuniting with his brothers and sisters. Murray was on dialysis for many years and he was tied to that three times weekly lifesaving procedure. With this in mind he carefully planned a way to make a trip possible. It never happened.

The last two times I spoke to Murray he felt frustrated with his situation and was losing hope for a better life. Murray wished to be returned to his family after death and this will take place in the next week or so. He will begin his journey home this week and our family will be able to pay their last respects as he will be buried with his mom and dad.

Sometimes we wait too long to do the things we know we should do or wish to do. Murray will have one wish granted and we will all feel better because of it.

Peace Keeping Week

Most people do not realize the we are into a special week in Canada.We celebrate this peace keeping week because for 40 years we Canadians were the best in the world at joining forces with the UN and helped to keep peace in war torn countries. We were the best as outlined in fact that when peace forces were formed we were at the top of the list for our participation.

In my lifetime Canada has sent its peacekeepers to numerous hot beds and did their job with hardly a loss of significant life. One life is one too many but considering the risky fields of action the blue beret stood for UN and forces that at times never had to fire a shot. The very presence of our brave troops signaled it was a time to cool it and begin talks for a permanent solution to the problem.

Canada has been in Cyprus for a lifetime and are the main force there and on their watch hardly a breech of the peace has happened. One incident at the beginning caused the death of 15 of our peacekeepers but since that time a handful.I am very proud of our armed forces but I am disturbed at our government for placing what was the best in the world at peacekeeping to a small combat unit in a war zone without hope of long term peace. Our value has been usurped and our effectiveness as a military power was never significant since the Korean War. Why the great turn around in our world role ? Why are so many of our troops giving their lives to a cause that was not ours in the first place.

We and America have been dragged into a cesspool of misdirected objectives and we are paying the price. Our previous role had us helping countries who asked us to be there and we left after our mission was complete with heads held high and the thanks of grateful countries. This mission will have us fighting a war without clear exit strategy and financial distress when we could use the resources here in Canada.

God bless our troops and I hope that someday we will return to the peaceful role we once cherished and actuated so competently.

Political Parties Irrelavent

Our government at the provincial and federal level has been a mess for years. The mess is all about meeting goals. Our representatives are supposed to be doing good work on behalf of their constituents. As our members have a loyalty to a party policy controlled by a few in the know, the average member will have little to say about the goals to help people. The party in power is so concerned about holding power that their energy is used to keep it. The opposition are routinely ignored and rarely get a straight , honest answer. At our federal level we really do not what is happening because all news is filtered down from the PM.

If you wish to be frustrated , watch question period. This pitiful show completely ignores the peoples needs and becomes poor comedy at best. What a lost opportunity as much could be accomplished if our members, all of them worked together to work for Canada and people like ourselves. Never in our history have so many people been disenfranchised by the perceived lack of confidence in our important institution called parliament.

I have known a few politicians in my life and most if not all were good people. Their intention was to go to Ottawa and effect change and make good decisions. If you are not one of the chosen few in the cabinet you become a number to be counted at voting time. Be aware if you ever break party rank on a party issue.

How could this be changed. Members could be elected to represent their riding. The members could arrive in Ottawa and collectively set out an agenda for Canada. The members could decide who would be the best leader to carry out the process to meet the goals. Other members could be included for their expertise in a particular area and lead the parliament to get the job done. Different leaders could emerge when different policies are required. All members could be part of the process and feel part of the team. Of course this would require good faith on behalf of the members. Would it not be a surprise to see our 300 members working for us and not covering their back sides and sniping at each other.

We have the desire for a civil government but our party system will not permit this to happen. We are a diverse country made up of every ethnic group and we have difficulty in developing a system where this diversity can be manifested through active participation.

Check the system used in Nunavut. Too bad a similar system could not be used on a larger scale. I know it would be impossible as things are now but with the communications we have now and the technology, one day all of may be given a chance to be part of selecting our destiny. 35,000,ooo people vote on American Idol. Some day we the people may be linked by internet to show our support or lack of it on issues that concern us. Anything is possible if there is a will.

Grand Old Lady

Today we drove Doris to Hamilton for a flight to her old home in New Brunswick. For the last week she was packing and rearranging her belongings for the trip. She doesn't mind flying but really wanted to drive the 1800 km in the seat of the second row behind us. We felt that two lengthy trips in a 2 week period would be tiresome. Doris is nearly 92 years old.

She manages to hang out laundry, bake her favourite cookies and anything else she puts her mind to. Her brother is turning 90 this year and has recovered from a medical incident which could have caused him to give up. Their getting together means much to both of them as phone calls do not really satisfy their need to be together.

We watched Doris today getting on the plane and Theresa had to wait until the plane was safely off the tarmac before we could leave. She does not need assistance but is nervous as we all are when we hear of plane crashes. When she arrives home the talk will be about old times but Maritimers always talk of the weather. I am sure every breakfast will be interrupted about weather it will rain or shine that day. Older folks are enjoying life more now because of the modern travel and communications. They still talk of the good old days and I confront them to tell me some of the good things about the old days.

The answers I receive are usually the same as account after account speak of trials and tribulations. They speak of the hard work, the lack of educational opportunities, the poor diet and lack of money and resources. Still they cling to the expression of the good old days. From what I hear from them there were no good old days. What they are saying is that with all the bad there was quality of time and relationships shared in a common sense so memories are of the family struggling together for a better life.

I love to listen to old folks talking of their school days, their home life, their parties and family celebrations. Life today is the same only played on a different field with different rules. Our children will listen to us soon when we talk of the days before TV and Ipods and will laugh and maybe even pity us for living in such primitive conditions. Doris lived in a different age but she fits in quite nicely with the modern world. She is a icon for her age group and an example of how she bridged the generations.

We will miss her for a few days and be ready for her return to fill in the blank space she leaves when she is not here. I hope the weather is changing every hour when she is Down Home so they will have lots to talk about.

Extended Family

Growing up in a mining town in Cape Breton, I was surrounded by extended family. Within a few hundred meters were numerous uncles, aunts, grandparents and cousins. We all lived at the end of the lane named after my grandfather. The hub or center of the family was Ma Vickers, the matriarch for sure. Her home was surrounded by the homes of her children. These homes were built on her land.All of her children living there were part of her everyday life.

Ma Vickers was an institution and her home was an open house. All the folks around there felt at home and would enter her home through an unlocked door and have tea. The teapot was a blue metal pot holding at least twelve cups and was never empty. Loose tea was used and when the pot got nearly empty Ma would throw in a handful of tea and fill the pot with water.

We lived four doors down at the very end of the lane but my mother was able to talk to her mom every day if she wished. There were few secrets then as life was simple and open. The birth of a child , the death of a pet, the purchase of something new all were treated as news and held the conversation that day. I loved my grandmother and she had time to make me feel important. With our big family it was easy to be overlooked but not in our case as we had extended family. Ma taught me to play crib and euchre and always had a kind word if I needed it.

Our aunts and uncles co-parented us and we felt accountable to each member of our clan. The one on one parenting was minimal in our home but was more than made up by the intervention of our elders. It was a comfortable feeling to know that our whole neighbourhood was family.

As I see things now with families spread all over the country and world the component that is missing is that special family tie which comes from extended family relationships. I feel blessed that we are able to carry on the old Cape Breton tradition and are in close proximity to most of our family. The next best thing is the telephone, face book and family visits. Over the next few weeks Theresa and I hope to renew those extended family relationships.

Friendly Golf

Today I played golf with friends for the last time this month. I drove with Jerry who is over eighty but has a professional swing except for the distance. We used a cart today but we had to use the 90% rule we may as well have walked. Our group is called the Oakville Old Masters but they could change the last part of the name to Bastards as we often act that way.

We are grumpy and complain about nearly everything but always turn up the next week for more of the same. Two dollars are contributed each for the best score and with handicaps ranging from 17 to 36 anyone can be a winner. First prize is $16 and when you win it seems like $100 because of the bragging rights.

If you listen to the chatter around the table you get a good overview of what it is like to get old. Every physical condition is described in detail and nearly everyone has at least one to contribute. One of my friends has every imaginable condition but he still comes out to play. I think it is popular to have something wrong to report.

For the most part we are a good bunch and genuinely like each other and I am sure if any real mishap were to occur they would be right there to lend their support. I am not a good golf player but I feel at home with our old foggies and their stories. By the way some of us are pretty good, today Dennis shot a 79. Not bad, eh? When talking to the wives of our group they strongly support the Tuesday outing. I am convinced it to get us out of their way for a few hours. So here is to the game of golf and the people who play it for whatever reason. See you on Tuesday.

Nahanni River ... Virginia Falls

While I was living in the High Arctic, the opportunity to travel to remote places was made available to me on numerous occasions. There were a few special locations but the one that gave me the greatest thrill was my canoe trip on the South Nahanni. River. Landing on this magnificent river above Virginia Falls was absolutely spectacular. The view from the plane of this falls was worth the whole trip.

Virginia Falls is twice as high as Niagara Falls and has a spiracle in the centre which divides the water. At 318 feet high and almost a 1000 feet across it makes quite a picture. Its water comes from the McKenzie mountains and most of the clear water is glacial. This gives it a greenish colour. The roar from the waterfalls is deafening. I stayed for a day and a night at this site before continuing downstream by canoe.

This area was mainly unexplored except by air. The river and area is referred to as man eater because over forty men lost their lives trying to explore the river and run its course. Bill Mason was a great water person and his work in this region gave him the honour of having the rock at the falls named after him. Pierre Trudeau was responsible for having this region become a National Park and a world heritage site. Trudeau worked with the Dene of the Dehcho to make this possible.

Along this river more than 250 caverns are known and there were great geological value in the material found in these caves. Bears, wolves, caribou and Doll sheep abound in this region. The area is so remote that the only means of access is by plane. Only a few hundred people a year are treated to visit this park. I am sure this will change in the future.

For my part I call the Dehcho region and the Virginia Falls on the Nahanni my most thrilling visit while living up there.

Henry, Henry, Henry

I have never written a blog about Henry before, but I feel compelled today. Henry is a special son - because he is my only son. He is also special because he is just so special. When he was a little kid I had dreams that he would be this or that, and I realized that Henry would be Henry.

He gave me so much joy as a child because he was the perfect baby at two years old. Then came the few years that he set his goals that were not in tune with mine, and I retreated. We decided that he would be what he wanted to be.

Early childhood I had a son who complied to all my wishes but not his. When I shot a goose he didn't want to hold it by the neck but he did. Working with wood was a task that would make any teenager flee but he did his thing.

I bought a boat - a 47 ft long second world war boat - that was the envy of the folks on the Ottawa River. Henry was a natural. I was so proud of Henry being the captain of this boat with as many as 55 people on board. He knew the river, he knew the currents, and he trusted me to make judgements in difficult situations. He was a mariner.

Henry and I both loved music and I was so proud of him and his small group playing in the festival and at assemblies. He played the slide trombone as well as anyone.

Henry was a quiet fellow who rarely told me his thoughts but I always trusted him to make the right decision. I trusted him too much and did not protect him as I should have. We take for granted that everyone is good but this was not the case. I forever regret not being there one time when he needed me most.

Time has passed and I realize the great parent and son I have. Henry probably is the best parent I have known and the son he has is the result of that parenting skill. We have become great friends over the last twenty years and I look forward to the next twenty.

Henry you are what every father wishes his son to be. You are resourceful, honest, and loving and a wonderful brother to your sisters - who are very proud of you.

When you came to the Arctic I had a special feeling for you when you left because I really missed you. Have a happy 43rd Henry, and many more.

Icebergs Run Deep

The Arctic has many hidden treasures, but an Iceberg isn't one of them. The first time I viewed a berg it took my breath away because of the beauty and size. I was visiting a hamlet in the summer of 95. August found the water in the strait between Qikiktarjauq (Broughton Island) and Baffin Island open for travel by boat.

I borrowed one of the rescue boats powered by two 150 hp Yamaha outboards and set out with full gas tanks. With me was a young Enok Siman who knew every inch of the shoreline. I wanted to see everything. A pod of walrus numbering 20 swam along and disappeared to the depth below to feed on clams.

Birds of every description covered the rocky cliffs but around the next headland was the gem I wished to discover. Grounded was a beautiful iceberg. Fresh broken from a glacier in Greenland was this magnificent block of Ice.

Fully three hundred feet out of the water and pure white. I was warned to approach the monster with caution as they can calf or worse turn over. This one was driven in to land by a wind storm and would remain there until nature blows it out to sea. We came up along side of this beauty and a rifle shot to the berg shattered away small parts of the outer shell. We retrieved the particles and filled several buckets for use in making tea.

Inuit love the taste of iceberg water for drinking and making tea. Siman told me it is 8,000 years old and put there by the gods for mans use.This iceberg was in a deep part of the strait and although we could see three hundred feet there was about 2,000 feet hidden below.

I sketched the berg and later painted it and gave it to Glenda. I began to think how symbolic the berg was to people. We see or are shown so little of the total person. If we ever get to invade those inner feelings and secret spaces that are rarely exposed you have gained sacred status by the knowledge you acquired. Once you gain access to a person's inner and intimate self, you have an obligation to treat this special status with the ultimate trust. That's what real friends do. When this trust is broken or abused you can no longer be called a trusted friend. Sad.

So when I see an iceberg I relate it to my friends ... the parts they show and the parts they share. Share with few and show many. By the way, I went back two years later and it was still there stranded providing tea water and 8,000 year old drinking water for the Hamlet.

Celebration of Life

Our family attended a celebration of life of a favourite relative. We came together from several parts of the province and met the relatives and family of Arlen. We, as a family, felt the pain and sorrow of a life gone in a moment. We also experienced and witnessed the grieving family doing what families do during times of grief. They bonded, hugged and felt as one with the single purpose of remembering the loved one, in a time of focused energy.

The room was filled with a collection of neighbours, relatives and friends. We all watched the difficult ritual of closing out the physical life of their loved one. The feelings were electric for all, as we were able to project or remember when this ordeal was played out for one of our own.

Funerals have an important role for the living as they give us all a opportunity to feel and express that strong emotion of love and empathy. My family has had occasions to express these feelings. I pity the person who has not had the opportunity to be present during such open expressions of grief. It cleanses the soul and makes you a better person for having given yourself totally to your deep inner feelings. The group always strengthens the grieving family and reassures them that they are not alone during these low moments.

Feel free to grieve, and to have the freedom to love openly for the loss of a loved one. Our family did.