Friday, 26 April 2019


When I Am Among The Trees
by Mary Oliver


When I among the trees,
especially the willows and the honey locust,
equally the beech, the oaks and the pines,
they give off such hints of gladness.

I would almost say that they save me, and daily,
I am so distant from the hope of myself,
in which I have goodness, and discernment,
and never hurry through the world
but walk slowly, and bow often.
Around me the trees stir in their leaves
and call out,  "Stay awhile."

The light flows from their branches.
And they call again,  It's simple,"
they say,  "and you, too, have come
into the world to do this, to go easy,
to be filled with light, and to shine."


I'm a little weepy this morning, worried about a son who continues to crash against the world, unable to see a clear path ahead for himself, unable to there for his son, just as his own father was not there for him, history repeating itself.  It's early days I tell myself but still it breaks my heart again.




When I am Among the Trees 


When I am among the trees,
especially the willows and the honey locust,
equally the beech, the oaks and the pines,
they give off such hints of gladness.
I would almost say that they save me, and daily.

I am so distant from the hope of myself,
in which I have goodness, and discernment,
and never hurry through the world
but walk slowly, and bow often.

Around me the trees stir in their leaves
and call out, “Stay awhile.”
The light flows from their branches.

And they call again, “It’s simple,” they say,
“and you too have come
into the world to do this, to go easy, to be filled
with light, and to shine.”
- Mary Oliver -

I am a little weepy this morning, worried about a son who continues to crash against the world, 

unable to see a clear path ahead for himself, unable to be there for his own son, just as his own father 

could not be there for him, repeating history.  It's early days I tell myself but still it breaks my heart.  


Sunday, 21 April 2019


The mountains did their trick, my cup is full to overflowing and I feel much better.  We went to all our usual spots.  It started snowing as we drove south to higher elevations, big, fat flakes but it wasn't cold.  It feels like being inside a snow globe that someone has just shaken.  We got as far as the Columbia Icefield and stopped there for tea and coffee.  It was their first day open so it was quiet, peaceful and snowing.  



We came home yesterday and my son came over to visit his son.  Twice we've done this.  I go pick up the baby, bring him over to our house and my son gets to spend time with his son.  We'll see how long this lasts.  The first time my son spent the first 45 minutes pressing all of my buttons and when I didn't respond, he finally gave up and settled down.  Yesterday there was no button pushing.

We took Gracie and the baby out for supper last night.  We were going out anyway and I didn't want her sitting alone at home so she joined us and enjoyed herself.  The little guy slept through the whole thing.  When we dropped her off I hugged her and told her she was doing a good job, so did the big guy.  And she is doing a good job.  It's not easy taking care of a baby by yourself.

I'm reading a good book right now, "Love 2.0" by Barbara Fredrickson, a psychology professor at the University of North Carolina.  It's about positive emotions and how they change us.  It's about biochemistry and brain chemistry and about love.  My kind of book.  It's not enough for me to be told I need to do something like meditate, I need to know the how and the why because when I understand am I much more likely to follow through.

I'm back to work tomorrow.  I miss my patients.

Happy Easter.





Monday, 15 April 2019


Not really sure what I want to write about.  I feel adrift.  I'm not used to being home all day anymore.  I miss my routine, miss by patients and miss my friends at work.  Last week was busy enough, at a different hospital all week, but I feel out of sorts.

I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop I guess.  Waiting for the shit storm my son usually causes.  Hurting already for his son who will be lied to and disappointed by his father over and over again.  I hope that doesn't happen but in my experience it's what my son does.  Fucking hell!  It's the reason I left my son's father and now history is repeating itself.

I need to let go of expectations and worries and just live today.  If anyone out there knows how to do this, please let me know.

I'm reading "Becoming" by Michelle Obama.  I would like to have her as a friend.  I would like to have had her parents.  I wonder if I would have been different if I had different parents.  I'm not a bad person but I worry so much.  I'm like Mark Twain,    “I've lived through some terrible things in my life, some of which actually happened.” 

I am more like my mother than I would like to be.  She made catastrophes out of small things.  I try not to but still it happens.  I don't imagine I'm the only one either.

The sky is grey today, rain or snow today in the forecast.  It matches my mood.

Saturday, 13 April 2019


It always amazes me how perfect newborn babies are, how perfect and how innocent.

Thursday, 11 April 2019

 Liam had a hard time coming into the world.  His mama was terrified, refused to attend prenatal classes because she thought it would cause her too much anxiety and didn't know anything about c-sections, other than, she didn't want one.  It didn't go well for either of them and eventually both Liam and his mama were at risk for severe complications.  As it was, he didn't breathe on his own for the first six and half minutes of his life.  He's still drowsy from all the drugs but has latched on and is breast feeding which is good.  He's a sweet little guy.  His mama enrolled him in a long term study to research the effects of his particular resusitation.  A new prayer to add to my nightly ritual.  Please let him be okay.

My daughter accused me of being negative all the time which stung.  She's not wrong but I started thinking about medicine and nursing and realized that when things are working well, when there is no negative, everything is fine.  I was taught to look for dysfunction, not function.  I think of myself as a realist.  I hope but within the confines of reality.  I don't hope for miracles, or maybe I do.  I think the big guy would say I hope for miracles.  So basically I'm all over the map.

I'm scared that my son will scar this little boy for life with broken promises and addictions, just like his own father did to him.   I can't fix my son, I can only stand by and hope and pray.  I finished the quilt for Liam finally, on the day he was born.  I had to wash it because the cat had already vomited on it but I kept the promise to myself to made a quilt for my grandchildren.




I'm scared and hopeful and tired.  I have such a hard time seeing the good.  I guess my daughter is right.  I need some mountain time, or at least some time by the river and the trees.

Tuesday, 9 April 2019




He finally arrived in the night after fifty hours of labor and a c-section.

Friday, 5 April 2019


It's been a busy couple of weeks.  Still no baby.  Gracie was supposed to start being induced yesterday but apparently the hospital had a bunch of emergency C sections so no time for inductions.  That poor girl is terrified of labour and I'm wondering how much of the holdup is due to fear.  I imagine she's also worried about the shit show that will ensue with my son after the baby is born.

Last week I texted my son and told him that I wanted his stuff out of our garage, just bags of clothes.  When he went to jail last November Gracie called us and asked us to pick up all his stuff.  She was traumatized by my son and then the police.  My son was hallucinating and telling her they had to kill someone again.  The police were called by a neighbor and they broke down the door, handcuffed both of them and then carted my son away.

When he got out of jail in January I asked him to come get his stuff.  Two and half months later, it was still here.  He stopped by once to get a few things but refused to take all of it.  So last week I told him I wanted it out of our garage before the weekend was over.  He couldn't do that.  He had plans.  Next weekend he said.  I told him no, it was happening this weekend.

It went back and forth.  He finally agreed to let us deliver his stuff to him, you're very welcome.  We drove to the other side of the city and woke up a very tired looking Polish lady who had no idea who my son was.  He gave us the wrong address, on purpose or by accident I don't know because I asked him three times for the address and got two different answers.  I tried to contact him, no answer.  Yada yada.  We gave up and drove home.  Later that day we donated his stuff to Goodwill and I haven't heard back from him.

I'm starting to accept that my son must be mentally ill.  This goes beyond addiction and regular fuck ups.  His life is a train wreck and it breaks my heart but I will no let him drag me down with him, or his son.

At work we had accreditation this past week which was intense.  It's over and the system that the big guy developed to deal with the equipment in DI was a huge hit.  There's talk of selling the system and I'm so proud of him.  He's been working on it for the past seven and a half years and it finally got the recognition it deserves.

Spring has finally arrived and I have some tomato and sunflower plants sprouting in the kitchen window.  I've already been to the greenhouse twice so far and can hardly wait until I can plant outside.  The geese have arrived and their honks fill the air.  It's a sound I love.  In a few more weeks it will be the sound of the sandhill cranes flying overhead.  I can hardly wait.