Category Archives: family and friends.

Where the Wild Heart Dances

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Finding my rhythm in the embrace of the sea.

Where the Wild Heart Dances, life’s mysteries unfold in waves of wonder and awe, inviting you to let go of searching for certainty in a world of constant change.

Morning light pushes back the darkness, promising a new day filled with unknown mysteries. As the ocean waves lap gently against the rocks and the salt air caresses my skin, I stand here at the edge of the sea, present in this moment, listening, smelling, sensing, feeling, watching. The shadowy trees stand sentinel, their silence a mirror of the world around me.

It’s been two weeks since we moved to our island home. Two weeks of unpacking, sorting, settling in. Two weeks of becoming. But becoming what? Like a rogue wave surging from the depths, unexpected and powerful, a wave of longing washes over me, a yearning to know what tomorrow will bring. Will I find a sense of belonging here? Will this wild, beautiful place ever truly feel like home?

Memories of gatherings with loved ones surface, their laughter echoing in my heart. But here, surrounded by the vastness of the sea and sky, a sense of isolation creeps in. It’s a strange paradox – to feel so connected to the natural world, yet so adrift from the familiar rhythms of my old life.

In the stillness of this moment I wonder, am I falling into old patterns and seeking answers when I need to be living the questions? Perhaps finding a new rhythm is not about searching, but about surrendering to the mystery of the unknown, allowing the island to shape me, to teach me its own ancient cadence. It’s about listening to the whispers of the wind and the crashing of the waves, and letting them guide me to a place of belonging.

Perhaps the question isn’t, “What happens next?” but rather, “How will I release my need for certainty in a world that is constantly changing?” How do I quiet the noise of the world and listen to the whispers of my own soul, carried on the island breeze?

I cannot know the answer to tomorrow’s mysteries. But I can choose to embrace the unknown, to plant seeds of connection and creativity, to nurture a sense of wonder in this new and awe-inspiring place.

Namaste

PS. And for a touch of whimsy, Beau posted his blog yesterday — okay. It wasn’t Sunday but it’s poste. 🙂

The Perfect Time is Family Time

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Processed with VSCO with a6 preset

After a delightful two-week visit with my daughter and her family, I am once again at the airport, awaiting my flight’s boarding call.

On this morning’s drive to the SeaBus terminal at Lonsdale Quay in North Vancouver, courtesy of my daughter, I mentioned what a lovely time I’d had, as always.

“Even though we mostly did nothing?” she queried.

Yes. Even as the Norovirus swept through the household, afflicting each of us in turn, I still had, the best of times. Not the worst.

The unexpected guest, Norovirus, paradoxically, became the backdrop against which precious moments unfolded. Its presence meant our world shrank to mostly staying home, to the exclusion of time spent with the children’s friends and other social activities. Fortunately, before its arrival, I was able to watch my grandson’s dedication in his Karate class and was awed by his focus and attention throughout the session. When I told him how much I admired his focus he replied confidently, “Yes. I’m very focused in Karate.”

And here’s the thing, once the virus began to roam through the house, it didn’t dampen our spirits. It instead curated moments of simple joys—building sandcastles at the beach, exploring playgrounds, wandering through forests, and strolling along North Vancouver’s scenic seawall. Together, we baked bread, made pancakes (my grandchildren are expert Chocolate Chip Testers) and laughed and played games together where it was never quite clear who actually won.

And though my grandson’s sixth birthday bash was postponed, our small celebration, complete with cake, candles, and the Happy Birthday anthem, was no less heartwarming. His excitement over new toys—a Minecraft Lego set, Air Nerf guns, and a vintage Foosball table—brought laughter and competitive spirit into our days, even as my three-year-old granddaughter amusingly disrupted the game with her innocent chaos.

These instances of togetherness, of fun and laughter, underscored the essence of family.

One memorable evening, with my son-in-law away and my granddaughter under the weather, I had the pure joy of reading bedtime stories—an unexpected, yet profoundly cherished, bonus.

And, added bonus! My daughter and I did fit in our traditional dinner at the Arm’s Reach Bistro in Deep Cover!

Could our time together have unfolded differently? Perhaps.

But the essence of its perfection lies not in the activities we did or didn’t do, but in the love, connection, and quality family time that characterized my visit. It was, in every sense, a perfect encapsulation of the joy and bond of family.

The Day She Was Born

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Thirty-six years ago today, the world was a flurry of icy chills and Olympic anticipation. Calgary, caught in the grips of a Polar Vortex, was buzzing with excitement for the upcoming Winter Olympics. In the midst of this, Alberta nurses were striking, hospitals were navigating through tumult, performing only emergency procedures.

Liseanne, my vibrant youngest daughter, chose this intense backdrop for her grand entrance, arriving two weeks before her due date of February 13 – the very day the Olympics were set to begin. Unlike her sister, whose 3 week-late arrival made me wonder if she’d ever venture out, Liseanne was eager, ready to embrace the world with the fervour of the star athletes descending upon our city.

Her early arrival was my first lesson in the unpredictable joy of motherhood. With my eldest, I was unprepared for the tidal wave of protective love that overwhelmed me. With Liseanne, it was the fierce, unconditional love that made me wish to keep her safe inside me forever. Yet, amidst the nurses’ strike and my impending C-section, Liseanne’s determination won-out. It always does.

I remember that day vividly. My water broke, but I remained silent, helping her father put the final touches on her nursery. It was only after we finished that I called my doctor. “Can I wait until the strike is over?”, I asked him when he said he’d meet me at the hospital – right away. His response mirrored the impending life lesson Liseanne herself would repeatedly teach me: Life doesn’t wait for you to get ready to live. There’s no better time than now.

Liseanne’s entrance into this world was a testament to her indomitable spirit, a trait she has carried throughout her life. She’s always lived with an urgency, a ‘do it now’ philosophy, shining brightly and touching every life in her orbit with her radiance.

Liseanne possesses many superpowers, but her most remarkable is her warrior spirit. She has an innate ability to stand for justice, to uplift the downtrodden, and to infuse joy in every heart she touches. During her school years, it wasn’t unusual for me to hear from her teachers about how she ‘talked back’ – but it was always in defense of a classmate, a stand against injustice or unfair treatment.

Being Liseanne’s mother has been an extraordinary journey. Both she and her sister have taught me immeasurable lessons about love, courage, and resilience. They have been my greatest teachers, showing me the depths and heights of what it means to love and be loved.

As Liseanne celebrates her 36th birthday today, I am filled with immense pride and gratitude. Her life is a beautiful tapestry of strength, compassion, and unwavering commitment to making the world a better place – a world she’s travelled extensively due to her goal of visiting 30 countries by her 30th birthday. Since achieving it, she continues to find new places to go, new adventures to experience, and new goals to accomplish.

It is her way

Happy Birthday, my darling daughter. You continue to be a beacon of light in our lives, guiding us with your wisdom, warmth and humour. The privilege of being your mother is one of my life’s greatest blessings, and I look forward to the continued journey of learning and growing alongside you.

Photos by @ChristieeJames – Thank you CJ for ensuring we carry on Jackie’s tradition of always taking photos of family events and special gatherings!

Happy Birthday
Birthday Dinner

Women make the best friends.

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Since the early breaths of December frosts, when my birthday candles grew brighter leading the way into my next decade, my youngest daughter and I have planned on visiting the Zoo Lights at the Calgary Zoo. Yet, as sometimes happens, the tapestry of life unraveled our plans, and we found ourselves postponing the adventure.

However, one night, over a dinner where laughter danced between the clinks of cutlery, we extended an invitation to my cherished friend Jane and her daughter CJ – whom I fondly call TaDa (Tall Daughter) as she calls me ShoMo (Short Mother). And so, under a celestial dome of an obsidian ocean, the four of us finally reveled in the enchanting embrace of the Calgary Zoo’s ‘Zoo Lights’ Wednesday night.

It was a night embroidered with wonder, our hearts awash in all the colours of awe we could imagine. High above, the sky was a vast canvas of mystery, while around us, the earth transformed into a fairy-tale land. Tree trunks, bare yet proud, wore garlands of twinkling lights, painting the air with whimsical shapes and vibrant hues. Along the pathways, animal figures crafted from lights stood as silent sentinels, guiding our journey through a maze of sparkling bulbs – reds and greens, whites and blues, yellows and purple – all serenading us with the symphony of distant music and the bubbling laughter of children.

In this magical realm, I was reminded of the extraordinary tapestry of female relationships – a bond that transcends the ordinary, weaving through the realms of friendship and familial love. These connections are a mosaic of acceptance, understanding, tolerance, and, most profoundly, Love.

My journey as a mother has been a river of endless joy, a gift that continually enriches my life, filling voids left by past longings. Though my relationship with my own mother was a challenging voyage, where I strove to bridge a chasm with love and understanding, it was a journey of growth, nonetheless. A journey that enriched and informed my transformation as a mother.

The bonds I share with my daughters today and the beautiful threads we share with Jane and CJ are rooted in a garden of shared experiences, having weathered storms and basked in sunlit clearings together. In this sacred space, judgment and expectations dissolve into the ether; there’s only the warmth of unspoken understanding and unconditional Love.

Wandering through the luminescent wonderland of Zoo Lights, each step was buoyed by gratitude. Gratitude for the incredible women in my life who infuse my days with joy, laughter, and an abundance of Love – and who tease me lovingly as I tease them.

In that moment, under the celestial tapestry and amidst the kaleidoscope of lights, I felt the profound truth of my blessings.

I am one lucky woman.

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Thank you CJ for sharing all the photos! 

If you’ve haven’t been to Zoolights yet and are in or around Calgary, do go! It’s magical. – and only on until Sunday evening, January 7.

The Three Sisters

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The 3 Sisters Germany – Circa 1970s

As laughter and warmth filled our dining room on the evening of December 30th, it felt as if Christmas had come again just for us.

Minus the gift exchange and the date, it truly had. My brother-in-law, Jim, had spent the actual holiday visiting one of his daughters in another city, and we had faced our first Christmas since Jackie’s passing without either of them. Deciding on a Re-do with Jim was an important step in our healing, a loving gesture to bridge the gap death had left in our family circle.

The night of our Re-do, 13 people gathered around our dining room table. We cheered, toasted, and shared stories about life, travels, and the people who make it all worthwhile. With Jim present, Jackie’s absence was even more profoundly noticeable than at our dinner on Christmas night.

During the evening, a regular guest at our family and friends dinners revealed that he often rearranged the name tags I’d placed around the table to ensure he would be sitting next to Jackie. This simple yet touching act was a beautiful testament to Jackie’s quiet and caring influence.

Jackie was often the one I placed next to guests who were new to the circle. She had a natural talent for making newcomers feel at home. She could draw anyone into laughter and conversation, making them feel as though they’d been part of our group for years. This was just one of her many gifts.

Naramatta – April 2015

As a sister, Jackie was a rock for both Anne, my middle sister, and me. Dependable, loyal, and an exceptional listener, she could be forthright in her opinions, yet her feedback was always delivered with love.

Jackie’s aversion to making waves probably explained why she got along with everyone – truly, everyone.

I was once likened to a Jack Russell Terrier for my tenacity, but Jackie was the St. Bernard of our family. She was the rescuer, offering just the right mix of comfort and support. At the reception after her memorial, many shared stories of her kindness, like greeting new neighbors or bringing food to those in need. My husband, C.C., was often a beneficiary of her thoughtfulness, especially when I was away.

Anne, our middle sister, is akin to a Cockapoo – friendly, loyal, and a lover of people and animals. Always ready for an adventure but equally content with quiet moments, Anne embodies a fierce loyalty. But once trust is broken, it’s a challenge to rebuild, yet, even when I did something to get us both in trouble when we were younger, Anne would always defend me, often taking the blame for my missteps to protect me from the ire of our parents.

Gabriola Island – 2018

Throughout the years, the loyalty and tenacity of our ‘alter-ego-dogs’ played a role in keeping our bond together. We loved one another fiercely, even in those moments where we were driving one another crazy. It is our sister-triangle that has been a cornerstone of my life throughout the years. And though Jackie was the eldest, once we aged-out of the big sister-little sister dynamics and what I called her bossy-stage, she always treated me as an equal.

Our bond involved the usual sisterly phone calls, sometimes triangulating our relationships as one or the other of us vented about something the other had done.  Yet, we always returned to the one thing that sustained us — a deeply lived commitment within each of us to keeping our sister-connection alive, no matter the miles or age that separated us.

It’s just Anne and me now. A dynamic duo rather than triangle. Still, Jackie’s essence permeates our interactions, providing a touchstone to keep our sisterly bond alive. While new stories of Jackie’s antics won’t be created, her memory continues to weave through our lives, reassuring us that she watches over us, like a guardian St. Bernard.

We held a Christmas dinner Re-do last Thursday. Neither Jackie nor Anne were at the table, but both were unmistakably present in my heart. it’s where they always are. A sisterly-bond that can never broken.

I am grateful.

I am blessed.

Remember, but do not stay tied up in memory

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May the New Year unfold in a tapestry of joy, woven with threads of
love, laughter, and endless possibilities.

As Christmas dinner unfolded, each shared laugh and exchanged glance around the table felt like a testament to my sister, Jackie’s, enduring spirit. Her philosophy had always been simple yet profound: to nurture the bonds of family and friendship with unwavering kindness and caring. It was Jackie who reminded me always that connections, like the finest tapestry, are crafted with patience and love.

Gathered around the table, as we passed around dishes filled with delicacies which guests had also contributed, I realized how each recipe was more than just a meal; they were stories, memories, pieces of our collective history. The platter full of charcuterie Juan and Angelica provided, the savory aroma of the turkey, the sweet tang of the Bourbon cranberry sauce made by Tamara, the aromatic carrots Laura contributed and the delicate miso infused broccoli from my daughter and her partner, each had a story to tell, a memory to evoke.

Unbeknownst to me, Tim, my daughter’s partner, had decided the meal would not be complete without Jackie’s mashed potatoes and arrived with a casserole dish he’d baked up using her recipe. It was a thoughtful and caring gesture that reflected how Jackie, in her natural way, left her mark on each of us at the table. Her absence was palpable, yet her presence was equally so. Through our shared meal and rituals, her laughter seemed to echo, her smile appeared to light up the room, and her warmth seemed to embrace us all.

And still, amidst the laughter and chatter, the joy and aromas, there was a moment when, as I looked around the table I’d decorated with such loving care and gazed upon the faces of our guests aglow in the twinkling lights, my heart gave a tiny tug on the ribbon of memory that wound its way through Christmases past. Without missing a beat, I felt the ache of loss stirring.. And then, in the next beat, with the gentleness of angel’s wings brushing against my cheek, I heard my sister’s voice whispering in my ear, “Remember me but do not stay tied up in memory.”

Smiling as I passed the gravy, my heart flooded with gratitude. Gratitude for the past that shaped us, for the present that holds us together, and for the future that awaits, filled with the promise of continued connection, love, and shared joy.

May the New Year unfold in a tapestry of joy, woven with threads of love, laughter, and endless possibilities.

May you know the blessing of unquantifiable, every-present Love.

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There are countless things in life we cannot quantify, yet we invariably depend on them. The number of breaths carried by the wind remains a mystery, as does the exact count of feathers that grant a bird its graceful flight. The river flows with an untold number of droplets, just as uncountable snowflakes vanish under the warmth of the sun in this unusually gentle December.

Equally immeasurable are the memories of my sister, Jackie. I can’t quantify the number of times she crossed our home’s threshold, her arms brimming with her world-famous mashed potatoes (described as such by my daughter) and a myriad of treats for everyone – humans and dogs alike. She always brought along her favorite chilled white wine wrapped in a freezer sleeve to ensure it was ready to savor with our dinner.

I cannot recall the last Christmas dinner she wasn’t present at our table, always there to remind me to fetch the potatoes from the oven and to ensure everyone’s glasses were filled. Her mischievous request for “just one more wee drop of Scotch” from my husband, accompanied by a playful twinkle in her eye, remains a cherished memory.

I’ve lost count of the times she rang to remind me of a family member’s birthday (knowing my penchant to forget), or to check if I’d seen a post from The French Connection in our Grand Famille WhatsApp group. And, even though I cannot count the number of times she graced our home at family dinners, or brought over a meal when my husband was ill, or I was away and she was worried he was not eating, or how many times she phoned to say she was thinking of me, or called my daughters to let them know she was thinking of them, or asked about a friend she met but once at our dining room table, I could always count on Jackie to remember people, what they liked to eat, and didn’t, and to ensure whether the dinner was at our home or hers, that there was a special dish to please every palate.

It’s who she was. She cared. Deeply. Her life was an embodiment of selflessness. She was a pillar of strength and support for our mother, stepping into the role of caregiver after our brother’s passing in 1997. For 25 years, she was more than just the eldest daughter; she was our mother’s confidante, champion, a constant source of support and love.

Her caring nature knew no bounds, touching countless lives, though the exact number of people she affected with her kindness is beyond my grasp.

Today, as the earth tilts, welcoming back the sun’s embrace in the northern hemisphere, I can count my own orbits around the sun but not the individual rays that have caressed my skin. Yet, amidst all the incalculable wonders of this world, one thing remains certain: the love my sister and I shared. This love, vast and unmeasurable, is my constant. It’s a bond that transcends time, distance, and even eternity.

For this unquantifiable, ever-present love, I am eternally grateful.

Whatever your celebration, no matter your faith, may you too know the blessing of unquantifiable, ever-present love. May your table be a circle of love never-ending.

Poppycock. Memories. And the power of kindness

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Adorned in twinkling lights and festive charm, this angel on our tree is a heartfelt symbol uniting our family with the spirit of ‘Jackie,’ a tender reminder of love and memories shared. I purchased identical angels for my sister, Anne, as well as both my daughters to place on their trees.

This morning, as the sun rose on the day after an evening spent engaging in a cherished activity — making poppycock, I found myself enveloped in a blend of tradition and reflection. For several years now, my friend Jane, her daughter, my youngest daughter, and I have gathered to cook-up batches of this sugary popcorn delight. It’s an evening brimming with laughter, dance, off-key singing and the rhythmic sounds of popcorn popping and sugar melting and cautions to “Be careful. Don’t burn yourself,” as Jane pours the hot sugary mess into the giant bowl of popcorn I’m stirring as her daughtger C.J. turns it to ensure the popcorn is adequately covered in gooey sweetness.

In the corner of our family area, twinkling and sparkling with tiny white lights, our Christmas tree stood adorned in spearkling balls and glitter.

It almost didn’t.

When I awoke yesterday, a realization dawned on me. Among the myriad tasks of the festive season, one significant ritual remained undone – decorating our Christmas tree. This tradition, typically shared with our adult children, had been unexpectedly set aside on Friday night when we’d gathered for dinner and decorating the tree. Exhaustion and emotional drain from the past two weeks, along with the anticipation of my sister Jackie’s celebration of life the next day, had drained me of energy. In the midst of all that had happened and needed doing since she’d taken her last breath on November 24th, the act of decorating the tree, which for me symbolizes hope and rebirth during this season of light, felt discordant with my grieving heart.

However, something shifted within me yesterday morning. I knew the tree had to go up. Even if all I did was plug it in, it had to grace our poppycock festivities.

And then, as I assembled the tree and watched it come to life with its twinkling lights, a gentle whisper from within urged, “It’s time.”

Not just time to decorate the tree, but time… to allow grief to flow, to let sorrow make way for love, and to embrace the season’s promise without the yearning to turn back time to when Jackie’s calm, caring presence filled our lives.

This morning, amidst the remnants of our poppycock-making extravaganza, memories of Christmases past with Jackie and her husband Jim wafted through my mind. Their early arrivals (if dinner was for six I could count on them arriving for 5:30), Jackie’s famous mashed potatoes (always enough for 30, no matter the guest count), and her take-charge attitude in the kitchen are memories etched in my heart. The fact is, I shall miss grumbling under my breath about her bossing me around in my own kitchen and her countless reminders to check the mashed potatoes to make sure they’re not burning!

This Christmas, Jackie’s physical absence will be palpable. Jim will be spending his holiday with one of his daughters. Our gathering will be smaller, with 11 of us around the table. Yet, I know Jackie’s spirit – her generosity, kindness, and the love that never quite grasped my youngest daughter’s humour – will linger amongst us, filling the space where she once sat.

This Christmas will be unlike any other, a bittersweet symphony of memories and presence. It will be a celebration in honour of my sister as we build new memories. Memories that will be embued with Jackie’s reminders of the enduring power of kindness to touch hearts and illuminate the true essence of this season of light, hope, joy, and love.

Choose Love. Walk with Grace.

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As my husband drops me off at the airport he comments on how early I am for my 11am flight to Vancouver – just over two hours. “It helps me stay calm when travelling,” I tell him.

And it’s true. Rushing only causes my blood to rush faster through my veins, speeding up my heartbeat and my thoughts. None of which helps keep me grounded in the moment, present to my surroundings, embodied within my whole being.

Seated at my Gate, I sit across from a woman in traditional African dress. She looks tired. Doesn’t speak English. I know as she showed me her boarding pass, pantomied, “Here? Yes?” to which I nodded my head in affirmation. I wonder how far she’s travelled. I wonder if her feet will get cold in her open-toed slip-ons. They match her dress and headdress beautifully. They may not match the weather in Vancouver.

I am off to visit my eldest daughter, grandchildren, son-in-love as well as my sister, Anne who lives on Gabriola Island. My youngest daughter flew in yesterday. Anne after breaking her knee-cap in May, developed a blood clot in her leg and cannot fly. Which means, she cannot come to our sister’s Celebration of Life on December 9. It is especially hard as she hasn’t been able to travel since the break, and couldn’t visit Jackie while she was in hospital.

As I travel west, I carry with me memories and thought of my sisters and my brother. My daughter and I were talking about how hard this loss is. And yes, it is. Yet, even though it’s hard, I have the choice to do the hard with grace and in Love. And that is what I do. Choose Love. Walk with grace.

My eldest daughter and I wrote Jackie’s obituary over the weekend. It is strange writing that word, ‘obituary’ in relation to my eldest sister. It is not a word I expected to write beside her name for many years to come.

And that is the crux of it. As it always is. We thought we had more time. More time to savour meals together, laughter, moments of joy, of shenanigans, of communion with the ones we love.

And then we don’t.

It is a lesson in Love. Cherish the ones who are close to us. Shower love all over your path, where ever you go and always, choose to do the hard with grace as your constant companion.

Namaste.

Obituary: Jacquline (Jackie) Marie Louise Trafford

The SnowGlobe of Your Mind

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Picture your memories as snowflakes dancing gracefully inside a snow globe. Within this crystalline sphere of your mind, memories shift and evolve, reflecting the dance of time.

When life delivers an unforgettable moment, new memories, like freshly formed snowflakes, gracefully descend. Some settle prominently, clear and within reach, while others are layered beneath the most recent moments.

The newly formed memories shimmer at the surface, vibrant and easily relived. Yet, with the passage of time, some memories nestle deeper into the canvas of your past, becoming more elusive.

Every so often, a gentle reminder—a fragrance, a melody, a cherished object—stirs the snow globe of your mind, reviving memories once buried, making them seem as fresh as yesterday.

But the dance of memories is intricate. Not all remain pristine. Some blend, others fragment, mirroring how memories can morph, skew, or fade. The internal landscape of your snow globe continuously reshapes, embodying the fluidity and fragility of your recollections.

Over the weekend, a dear friend of mine danced into the sunset. The moments we shared are vibrant in my mind’s eye. Years of camaraderie at work blossomed into a cherished friendship that weathered life’s seasons. Together, we savored laughter and tears, and shared a passion for life’s simple pleasures—good food, wine, and the joy of companionship.

She was a beacon during stormy nights and a steadfast supporter in countless endeavors. Her commitment to community causes was unparalleled, always standing tall when others faltered.

Today, the snow globe of my mind swirls with memories of her. Tears, held back since the devastating news, pool in my eyes, not yet ready to spill over into reality.

Absorbing the weight of her absence requires time—a pause to comprehend the void left by her departure and the realization that our shared moments are now finite.

In sharing this somber news with former colleagues, we all agreed: in her memory, we must forge the one thing she crafted so effortlessly—community.

We must take time to cherish shared moments, to truly connect beyond mere plans.

Life is a journey where memories incessantly gather, shaping each of our distinct snow globes filled with experiences with individuals who grace our path. By crafting new memories, new snowflakes, we enrich our life’s tapestry. As we treasure past memories and savor each distinct snowflake, the entire globe becomes more luminous.

Ultimately, it’s the strength of our community that defines us and makes our world richer. A world where, the love we leave behind becomes our lasting legacy.

Namaste