We loved this place. Brian and I were refreshed by the sight and sound of the sea.
In the early years we walked the beach together, stopping frequently to pick up shells that caught our attention. Very few people were encountered on our walks.
Only a handful of apartments in our building were occupied. We relished our peaceful existence, a 20 minute drive from the town where we not only did our shopping, but also found a church home.
It was on this beach, as I communed with God, that I first felt the stirrings to write. Inspiration flooded my heart and mind. Brian and I discussed these simple things that seemed to have deeper meanings. I wrote down the thoughts so I wouldn’t forget.
We often walked in companionable silence, each lost in their own thoughts. At some point during the walk Brian would turn to me and ask, “What song is going through your mind?” There was always a praise song at that moment, sometimes even the same as the one in his mind.
In later years we walked separately. I couldn’t keep up with his long strides when he was desperate for exercise. Not wanting to hold him back, we made the decision to each go at our own pace. Brian was often gone for two hours, clocking 10-12 kms. On a good day, I did no more than half of that. Later we’d share experiences and insights from our individual walks.
These discussions often served as writing prompts. Brian was always on the lookout for story ideas to share with me. Sometimes he’d show me a picture he’d taken and say, “This would make a good story.” I’d ask how and he’d tie the pieces together. Once I said, “Maybe you should write the story.” Eyes twinkling, he smiled and said, “I think I just did!”
I’m back on our beach now. This time Brian is with me in spirit, but physically I’m on my own for the first time here. I didn’t know if I could do it but since he had made his desire for me to return very clear, I had to try.
The first week was emotional. The second week was a bit better but I wondered if this would be my last trip. I’m only a few days into my third week but something has shifted. I’ve re-entered the rhythm of life here. And what’s more, peace has filled my heart and mind.
I’ve resumed work on the book I started writing the last time Brian and I were here together. Inspiration started to flow as I took a morning walk along the beach, carrying my beloved in my heart.
Brian knew what I didn’t when he insisted I return. God has met me in this peaceful place, started healing my heart, and let me know the next chapter of my life is waiting to be written. I am grateful.
Tag: memories
Imperfectly Perfect
A strong north wind had been blowing for several days. My son and I had been waiting for more favourable conditions so we could scatter some of Brian’s ashes along the beach that meant so much to him.
Our time to do this was running out as C was flying home the next day. Despite the wind, we headed out just before sunset. Emotions ran high as we wondered how we would know the right spot to stop. Nothing was preplanned. This experience was totally led by our hearts.
I stopped in front of an abandoned house. The ravages of storms had taken their toll on this house, just as the ravages of disease had attacked Brian since his last time on this beach. Somehow this seemed like an appropriate place.
We each took a turn, standing close to the water’s edge as the waves came in, shaking some ashes from the cardboard scattering tube. The tube was covered with a sunset scene over water. So fitting for this time and place.
No matter how far I leaned over the water, the wind blew the ashes back onto the sand. With great insight, C said, “This is the way it was meant to be. Dad loved walking along the beach but didn’t like to go in the water.” Perfect.
Before we turned to go back home, I sent a message to Brian on the wings of the wind. I told him I would always love him and never let his memory deteriorate and be abandoned like the house on the beach behind us. His legacy of love would live on.
Darkness had almost settled over us as we walked back. I glanced behind me and saw the cloud had parted enough so we were able to witness a beautiful sunset over the water.
We may not have known what the time and conditions would be for this emotional and symbolic event, but God did and he worked everything out perfectly.
An Unplanned Project
Have you ever had an idea or inspiration that seemed to take on a life of its own and flourished beyond your wildest expectations?
That is exactly what happened to me several months ago. A friend and fellow writer sent me a message about something I posted on social media. She gave me not only some beautiful encouragement but also a challenge.
The idea intrigued me and I started thinking of how I could make it my own. I mentioned it to a few others and although the response was positive, I pushed the idea to the back of my mind.
You see, we were only a few months into my husband’s brain tumour journey. Life was often overwhelming and I didn’t feel capable of taking on a major challenge.
This is where the project took on a life of its own. The initial people I’d run the idea past, submitted stories. Apparently, in a moment of weakness I’d given a timeline for submissions! Now I had to either apologize and return the writings they had done specifically for me or make a plan and move forward. I chose the latter.
After setting a firm timeline, I started contacting other writers. One night, when I was praying about who else to contact, I felt led to reach out to some friends and family members who were not part of my writing circle. Some said yes immediately and others needed more encouragement.
My book was taking shape. I forgot to mention to you that during this process I felt God tell me this project was to be used as a fundraiser. It made sense that the total profit would be donated to the Brain Tumour Foundation of Canada. After I reached out to them and received permission to use their name in promotion for the book, everything came together quickly.
Flowers of Remembrance is a collection containing the memories evoked by certain flowers. The writers range from 15 to 85 and their stories (and mine) will encourage you to stop and reflect on memories surrounding special flowers in your life.
I can think of no better place to hold an event for this book than a flower shop. Flower Whispers in Airdrie, Alberta will be the site for this on Saturday, December 7th. I’d love to see any who are able to drop by for a visit and refreshments from 1-3 pm. You can do your Christmas shopping and support an organization that hold a special place in my heart. More details are on my website www.timewithtandy.com under the Book tab.
Family Traditions
“Did you get to choose your birthday menu, like when we were kids?”, I asked my older brother.
Although this was one of my favourite memories, it was one he had forgotten until I mentioned it.
Not only did I remember the special feeling I got from being able to choose the meal, I carried the tradition on with my children. To be honest, I didn’t realize that not every family did this! When my children brought home significant others I would be met with surprise when I wanted to honour them by cooking their favourite meal.
That’s the way it is with some family traditions. They become so second nature that we believe our way to be commonplace and not an exception.
My brother, who is eight years older than me, asked if our mom was still baking her special bread when I went to school. I laughed at the memory. That tradition was definitely not normal!
For Valentine’s Day my mom would put pink food colouring in the bread dough and I’d go to school with pink sandwiches! On Saint Patrick’s Day, she’d do the same with green food colouring. Initially, this caused quite a stir in my classroom. As years went by, my friends would explain my unusual lunch to new kids before I got a chance to!
I also grew up with money in my birthday cake. Mom would take coins, wrap each in wax paper and insert them into the cake before she iced it. The total amount equaled my age. Whoever got a coin in their piece of cake got to keep it and this always caused excitement for friends at my birthday parties. I was the only one who’s mom did this. Lucky me!
Looking back, I see how these simple traditions let me know I was loved. Maybe this is why I still express my love by baking for others.
My husband and I have started a few traditions of our own with our kids and grandkids. I’ll save those stories for another day.
For now, I’m wondering what special traditions you have in your family. They may or may not have to do with food! I’d love to hear about them and how they have shaped who you are today.
This Moment
Nostalgia struck during my morning walk. Golden leaves fell like raindrops as my steps became automatic and my mind turned to people who have played significant roles in my life.
A couple of weeks ago my sister and I were able to have an in-person visit, after not seeing each other for over two years. I wonder when I will see her again.
My one remaining brother lives half-way around the globe. The last time I saw him was when he returned three years ago for our older brother’s celebration of life. Distance makes it impossible to reach out and give him a hug.
Our younger brother left this world far too young. Memories dance through my mind. What I would give to once again hear the chatter and laughter of our family gatherings.
Someone I care for is grieving her son, whose life was snatched away in a tragic accident recently. My heart cries with sorrow for the hope of a future that will never be realized.
It is a fresh reminder that tomorrow is not promised. All we have for certain is this moment. Let’s make the most of it. Tell people you love them, let them know they are valued and hold them tight whenever you have the opportunity.
The words of a song play in the background of my mind as I conclude this post, “Yesterday’s gone and tomorrow may never come, but we have this moment today.”
Food and Memories
My mom always made pancakes, waffles or johnny cake for Sunday lunch. Bacon or sausages would accompany these much-loved meals. In my mind’s eye, I can picture sitting around the kitchen table with my siblings.
When I started my own family, these Sunday lunch foods were continued. Now that my children have children of their own, they often make these favourites for their families.
On Mother’s Day, my husband and I made waffles using my mom’s recipe. I enjoyed every bite. Afterwards I thought of the many memories I have that revolve around family meals. Also, there are foods that automatically make me think of a certain person.
Well into her 70’s, my mom enjoyed gathering her family for a meal. When we arrived, we’d go directly to check the paper she had taped to her hutch. There we could read the entire dinner menu. It was much later I learned this was not done for our benefit, but so she wouldn’t forget anything!
For many years now, the words “clubhouse sandwich” invoke memories of much more than food. On December 26th we gather with our children and grandchildren for Clubhouse Sandwich Day. What started with food has turned into a gathering that’s a priority on everyone’s schedule. Not all the grandkids like clubhouse sandwiches but everyone enjoys the fun, laughter and stories that are shared that afternoon. Family memories are relived and new ones created.
When asked, my grandchildren could easily identify a food they thought of in relation to me. I know that even when I am no longer with them, they will think of me when they eat this. Memories are so often intertwined with food.
What memories do you have around certain foods? I’d love to hear your stories. You may inspire me to start a new family tradition!
Sufficiently Suffonsified
Twenty-five of us were out for dinner. A woman from Mexico was on my left and one from Florida on my right. The conversations were multiple and varied. The noise level made it difficult to hear more than snippets of what was being said across the table.
Suddenly, three words caught my attention. From opposite me I heard, “I’m sufficiently suffonsified.” A few others also heard the words and were confused. I, on the other hand, was totally delighted
You see, this was something my mother said. I don’t remember ever hearing anyone else say it and always assumed it was something made up by her family.
Mom passed away twenty years ago and I hadn’t heard the saying since. What had been temporarily forgotten now returned along with a flood of memories. I was mentally transported to my younger years and could see her smile and hear her voice.
After a large meal, mom would say, “I’m sufficiently suffonsified and any more would be an overindulgence of my already exasperated appetite.” In other words, she was full and couldn’t eat another bite!
It’s funny what can trigger memories. Sometimes, like this night, it was a few words. Other times it is the sight of a humming bird or aroma of freshly baked bread.
The everyday moments form the legacy I will be remembered by. The hugs, the laughter, the time spent together are more important than I realize. Since I don’t know what may trigger memories for my children and grandchildren in future years, I will do my best to leave a positive impression. My goal is to ensure they will be sufficiently suffonsified with the love I have shared.
The Treat Tin
The old coffee can received a new life in a kindergarten class back in 2005. First, it was painted white. Then a snowman face was painted on and a red felt cap added.
Our young granddaughter chose to present this wonderful gift to my husband and I. The cap had an opening in the back that was perfect for little hands to reach in, so we decided to turn the snowman into a special treat tin for our grandchildren.
They were not allowed to look inside the tin to make their choice. Instead, they would get what their hand chose. Sometimes the hands were in the tin for a long time as they attempted to feel every treat inside! This was the basis for many fond memories.
As our grandchildren grew, in size and number, the hat became unglued several times. Eventually, the snowman tin was retired and tucked out of sight in our pantry. I think we missed the game of guessing the treat more than the younger children did.
Not long before Christmas I brought out our special snowman and looked at the piece of masking tape on the bottom of the tin that still showed our granddaughter’s name.
The time had come to bring this gift back to life. My husband reattached the hat and we shopped for some special treats.
Our granddaughter has just moved out of her parent’s home and into her own apartment. When we presented her with the treat tin as a housewarming gift I could almost see the memories dancing across her mind. Her, “Oh, my gosh!” and big smile let us know the gesture was appreciated.
My hope is this tin will be a visual reminder of the sweet surprises life has in store for her and for her grandparents, who will always be there when she needs us.
Pinch Me
Have you heard the saying, “Somebody pinch me so I know I’m not dreaming”? That is exactly how I felt.
My husband and I had a long time dream and were about to make it happen. The time for saying, “One day we’d like to” had come to an end.
Too many times we have let opportunities pass us by. This time we weren’t going to look back in regret, wondering what it would have been like.
Plans were set in motion and initial preparations were started. We told others about our plans. It surprised us to hear how many people wanted to do the same. Not only were we going after our dream, we would also be living that of many others as well.
We packed up Vanessa, our 1996 travel van and headed across Canada.
Intentionally, we kept our schedule flexible. We had a rough idea of timing for some areas and commitments for specific dates in others. For the most part, we were free to go where the wind, or whim, took us.
Nine weeks and over 16,000 km on the road in a camper van was certainly the adventure of a lifetime for us. We witnessed firsthand the diverse beauty of our country. We were inspired by people we met. We overcame challenges and shared frustrations and laughter.
I learned to be content in a small space. I enjoyed not knowing what we might see during the day or where we would stop for the night. Having our food and accommodation with us gave us incredible flexibility. I am convinced this trip helped me to embrace a spontaneity that had been hidden for far too long. That in itself was a gift.
Now instead of saying, “One day” we have amazing memories of pursuing our dream and turning it into a dream come true.
Christmas Traditions
Do you have any special Christmas traditions? Are there activities, outings or special foods that signify the season for you? They may have been carried forward in your family for years, decades or generations.
How easy is it for you to adapt to changes in your traditions?
I grew up in a home where we were able to choose one of the presents under the tree to open on Christmas Eve. When I got married this changed. My husband was of the opinion that all gifts waited until Christmas morning. It was time to form new traditions together.
When my children were young teenagers we would pick my mother up in the afternoon of Christmas Eve and bring her our house to spend the next few days.
She would come to church with our family on Christmas Eve. Afterwards, we would drive around various neighbourhoods admiring Christmas light displays. Upon returning home it was time for hot chocolate and cookies.
One year, my husband made us clubhouse sandwiches on Boxing Day. Little did he know this was the start of a brand new tradition! Boxing Day has been synonymous with clubhouse sandwiches ever since!
Some traditions change out of necessity. My mom is no longer with us and our kids now have families of their own. One thing has not changed in over twenty years. We may not all be together to open gifts or enjoy a turkey dinner on Christmas Day but nobody wants to miss out on our clubhouse gathering on Boxing Day!
It’s funny how something little like this takes hold and becomes such a big part of our lives. Tell me about the traditions that have become part of your family heritage?