What a Great Day to Be Alive!

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Tandy Balson is a wife, mother, grandmother, friend, volunteer and observer of life. She also likes to make people feel special by giving them foot rubs. According to the bio on her website, there’s quite a line-up for her gift of a foot rub! Get in line.

Tandy’s post today on her blog, Time with Tandy, is a reflection on sea glass and its reverse of nature creation. Seaglass, unlike other stones made by nature and then refined by man, are first made by man and then refined by nature.

Tandy goes on to speak of how she was made up of many shards of glass polished by God.

“God has done exactly the same thing with me. He has taken my life and made something beautiful out of the broken shards I once presented him with. Through time and experiences, I have been tumbled until my rough edges are worn down. No matter what has happened God can use all of my experiences to accomplish his good, pleasing and perfect will for my life. I am excited to see what he has in store for me!”

I don’t hold Tandy’s same belief system but I do love her analogy and its invitation to join in the conversation.

It gives me pause to think about, what do I believe?

I believe we are all born perfect, miraculous humans. We come into this world as reflections of the magnificence and divinity always present in the Universe, as expressed by your belief in God, Yahweh, Buddha, Allah…

I believe we are born as the human expression of the Divine. We are each nature’s unique expression of beauty, majesty and love over-flowing with joy in who we are in the world.

And then, life happens. Human life.

Human life is not as intentional as the Divine. Human life roughs us up. It sharpens our edges, Tumbles our magnificence in the chaos, confusion and contradictions of life on earth. Sometimes, it shatters us into shards of glass so pointed and sharp, we fear our hearts will bleed to death in the sorrow of all that has happened to break us apart.

And always, life continues in our human condition until we are no longer present on earth. In its continuance we are constantly faced with choices born of the happenstances of our lives and the journeys we’ve each taken from childhood to adulthood.

Do we accept we are forever broken? Do we accept we cannot change? Do we accept there is no other way than the path upon which we walk? Do we accept the universe is against us and there’s nothing we can do to create another way of being present in this world. Life’s a losing battle and we are its victim.

Or, do we accept the magnificence of our natural human condition? Do we accept the power of our soul’s creation. The beauty of our heart’s desire to express itself through love? Do we accept, now is not forever, this too shall pass and in its passing, the sun will shine, the birds will sing and our hearts will call us to awaken. In the moment by moment passing of this life that is ours, do we accept we have the choice to fall down, again and again, or put our hands out and stop our falling so that we can stretch ourselves beyond what we know to fly free of what brings us down?

It is in our choices that we are polished by life, like seaglass is smoothened by the ocean waves, into refined and beautiful pieces of art that shimmer in the light of each day bursting open with the joy of our heart’s awakening to the truth, we are the divine expression of amazing grace.

Thank you Tandy for your inspiration. You didn’t rub my feet but you definitely gave me pause to rub up against my own resistance to letting life have its way and smooth out some of my rough edges so that I could awaken this morning and declare, “Wow! What a great day to be alive!”

And so it is.

When mice quit running in circles.

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She is only five or six. Blonde haired. Green jacket with two big red fabric flower pockets on the front.

Her mother is in her late twenties. Harried looking. She is talking into her cellphone as the two get on the C-Train.

There is an empty seat behind me. The mother motions to the little girl to sit while she stands beside her, still talking on the phone.

“Mommy. I want you to sit with me,” the little girl says.

The mother keeps talking on her phone.

“Mommy. I want you to sit with me,” the little girl repeats.

The mother keeps talking.

The little girl’s voice gets louder, more strident.

“I want you to sit with me.”

The mother stops for a moment and tells her daughter to be quiet.

The little girl repeats her request. Louder again. More whine in her tone.

The mother keeps talking.

And they repeat.

And repeat.

My stop comes and I get off and notice the passenger beside the little girl getting off too. The little girl scoots over. The mother sits down, still talking on her phone. The little girl grabs her arm.

I wonder what she’ll ask for next as I leave the train and continue on with my day.

I witnessed this scene play itself out yesterday as I rode the C-train into the downtown core and I wondered. Did the little girl really want her mother to sit down, or did she just want her to pay attention to her? Was her, “I want you to sit with me,” just another cry for her mother to “Look at me! Look at me!”?

At one point, a story of how her mother couldn’t sit down because mother’s can never sit down, flit through my mind.

The mice who run the wheels who make the C-train work would stop running in their tracks and want to sit with your mother too if your mother sat down, I wanted to tell the little girl. Mice are like that. They run and run around in circles until someone sits and then everyone follows suit. Wouldn’t that be horrible if all the mice running the wheels stopped and tried to sit on your mother! Oh my, what a scene that would be.

And btw, I’m not fond of mice on C-trains. Are you?

I never told the little girl the story. I never did anything other than listen in and wonder, how much am I like that little girl and mother? How often do I ignore the world around me as I go about my day all wrapped up in the conversations I’m having in my head, or on my phone?

Sometimes, our thoughts can be like the imaginary mice running around in circles in the wheels of the C-train. They make the wheels go round and round, but going round and round can lead to spinning out of control when done in mindless following of the path of least resistance.

Sometimes, we’ve got to put away our phones, turn off our laptops, the TV, the radio and other devices of mass distraction and simply sit still and be present in the moment of breathing.

Sometimes, we’ve got to let go of busy and simply be present to our inner child’s calling for attention.

How not to scorch the earth when lighting the flames of love

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Ian Munro at Leading Essentially wrote on Sunday about the natural power of a forest fire to clear out deadfall and create room for new growth.

Ian writes:

forest fire“A forest benefits from naturally occurring fires. It is one of those counter intuitive things in nature.  The forest ecosystem needs a good fire occasionally.  The larger, older trees form a canopy that blocks the light and suppresses new growth. Over the years, it also accumulates a lot of dead wood and brush on the forest floor, making it less passable for animals and less arable for other plants.  A good burn cures a lot of these issues.  At first, there’s nothing but a blackened mess.”

Read more of “The Secret to Avoiding Drastic Measures”. 

What we humans sometimes do not see is the beauty in the devastation. The possibility in the mess.

No matter how messy and filled with dead wood our path may be, we don’t want to feel the loss, experience the trauma, know the grief of burning down walls, tearing out the roots of the past, sweeping away deadfall on our path.

We focus instead on keeping going, no matter how dark the road, how treacherous the way. We keep on going in whatever direction we’re going, if only to avoid having to see the loss of light on our path.

Nature is patient, writes Ian.

We humans, not so much.

We want to continue on whatever path we’re on, be it comfortable or not, and not face the devastation, not confront the need to uproot or, as the case of a forest fire, burn down the overgrowth to get to the sun.

Two weeks ago, I married my beloved and we committed to live together, ‘happily ever-after’.

Okay, well the happily ever-after bit maybe wasn’t in our vows, but sometimes, in the beauty of the moment, happily-ever-after seems not so far away!

What was in our vows was the commitment to love one another, in the broken and the whole, of who we are, where ever we are.

We committed to be true to one another, no matter how dark the skies around us. To always find the path of least-destruction through all kinds of turmoil.

Life isn’t the culprit when our paths become dark and gloomy. We are.

In our quest to live in constant ‘happily ever-after’ we forget that life can be messy. It can have challenges. Ups and downs and disappointments. We must continually sweep away the fallen branches and deadfall that has collected on our path as we’ve journeyed from yesterday to today if we are to keep the light coming in. Or, to paraphrase M. Scott Peck who wrote over three decades ago about love and life and spirituality in “The Road Less Travelled”, if you don’t take out the garbage the whole house will stink. Our shadows are like the garbage, suggested Peck. If we don’t face them and all they carry, they’ll really stink up our lives.

I’m not a scorched earth supporter. I don’t believe we need to continually burn the earth on which we walk to keep our paths clear. I do believe, we need to continually clear out the deadfall, examine fallen branches and either turn them into walking sticks or let them go if they no longer serve us well. We need to continually seek the peaceful, loving path through our lives.

If I want my life to be filled with peace and love, joy and harmony, I must let go of lighting fires that destroy the world around me. As a couple, we must choose the road less travelled to find eachother’s hearts, in darkness and in light.

********************************

This post is in response to Ian’s question on his post:  The Secret To Avoiding Drastic Measures:

  • As a couple do we allow small irritations, poor habits and minor incompatibilities to fester to the point where the level of resentment cannot be reversed?  Or do we pursue more open dialog that allows these issues to be addressed individually, accepting that sometimes it will cause an argument or “small fire” that can be more easily controlled?

 

Falling in love is easy.

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Falling in love
is easy
when the laws
of gravity surrender
to their need
to hold me up
in my fear
of falling.

Falling in love
lifts me up
to the calling
of your heart
beat pounding
in time
with mine.

Falling in love
leaves me
effortlessly
standing with you
breathing
deeply
into Love.

I love creating visual memories of times and places. In the past, I’ve created videos of significant events in my daughters’ lives, family happenings, poems I’ve written C.C. — and on the weekend, I decided I’d take the photos we’ve received of the wedding from friends and, using the amazing song that Ken Swift, our DJ composed for our us, and turn it into a video.

C.C. and one of my daughters were teasing me last night that this would be, Wedding Video, 1.0. There’s 1.0 a and b oh and possibly C to come, they joked.

C.C. “Why don’t you wait for Ross’ photos (our wedding photographer) before you spend so much time making a video?

Me.  Because I don’t want to mix in his professional photos with all the non-professional one’s we’ve got.

C.C.  Mmmm… and it has nothing to do with your being impatient?

Me. (innocently). Impatient? Me? Never…

🙂

A Love Perspective. The Video. (Ver. 1.0)

On Being a Mother

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IMG_0900

I had no plan to become a mother. No preconceived idea that this would be the penultimate experience of my life. Mostly, I was terrified of the thought that being a mother meant passing along my foibles, faults and follies to an innocent child.

Why would I want to do that?

In fact, if asked whether or not we wanted children, my then husband and I would reply an unequivocal, “No.”

And then it happened. The thing doctors had told me probably was impossible, wasn’t. I became pregnant.

In my newly formed precariously pregnant state my doctor told me I needed to go to bed. For three months.

My friends laughed at me. Is your doctor crazy? No way can you go to bed for three months. You’ll be miserable.

It was the first of many life lessons my unborn child taught me.

No one decides how I go through each experience of my life, except me.

I could choose to be miserable. Or not.

I chose to fall in love. To lie in bed and savour every moment of new life growing within me and to cherish life around me.

In a journal entry from that time I wrote:

I think about you often. I wonder what will you be like. How will you enjoy entering the world?

You’re very quiet inside me. Your movements are graceful and serene. I imagine your tiny arms and legs, your body suspended, floating in my waters. Yet, sometimes, I can feel you soar. I can hear your body as it ripples across mine, quietly evolving, experiencing the joy of life, protected within my womb.

I can feel you. I am with you. You are with me, where ever I go, whatever I do. We are one in this journey. As you grow and develop, my body grows and develops. As you move, I move. As I move, so too do you.

I mold myself around you to protect you yet must leave you room to grow. For grow you will and I shall have to let you go.

Yet, this journey we share now will bond us for all time. For I am your mother. Mother to you, child of my body. And though I shall never own you, you will always own a part of me.

That was 1985.

My first daughter was born on June 19th, 1986.

Today, I have been a mother for almost 29 years.

I would not change a thing. I would not erase a moment, turn a different phrase or take a different step.

In this journey of my life, I have done things I want to remember forever, I have done things that, no matter how hard I’ve tried, I cannot forget — and ultimately do not want to because, regardless of what I have done, I have been and will always be, my daughters’ mother.

Being a mother is at the heart of my being present in this life.

Being a mother has taught me what it means to truly, madly, deeply love another, unconditionally, without any expectation of their loving me in return. Loving another is not about getting love back. It’s about creating an enduring circle of love and choosing always to stay in its flow, in darkness and in light.

Being a mother has taught me to trust in the power of my own body to create life and to be life-giving.

It has shown me how deeply I can love, how completely I can surrender, and how absolutely powerless I am over another human being. It has taught me humility.

On June 19th, 1986 I became a mother.

Being a mother has been, and continues to be, a journey into the heart of what matters most to me; to know myself, in all my many facets, and to love myself in every way I am present in this world so that I can be present for those I love, in love, always.

Thank you Alexis and Liseanne for giving me the gift of being your mother. You have taught me that love is always the answer because in your lives I have found my heart’s song. It is a song of Love, forever and always.

 

The Wishing Tree

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Pinterest is an amazing place! Filled with ideas and photos of things to create, do, wear it was my ‘constant counsel’ while planning our wedding. Everyday I would scroll through pins of wedding ideas looking for inspiration. And I found lots!

One of the ideas I loved was the ‘Wishing Tree’.

An alternative to a guest book, the Wishing Tree is an invitation for guests to share their thoughts and ideas with the Bride and Groom on marriage, life, love, family.

Anything they wanted to share, they were invited to do so on cards and hang their messages on the Wishing Tree.

In a big urn by our front door I had several long natural-coloured twiggy sticks that I thought would work well for our Wishing Tree.

I also had a couple of cans of Krylon’s Mirror-finish spray paint which I was using for the doilies I painted for underneath the centrepieces.

On the afternoon before I left for Naramata, I laid the twiggy sticks out on large sheets of plastic on our back deck and began to paint. Fortunately, it was a hot, sunny and windless afternoon. I also painted the clay pot I’d bought to hold the twigs as well as the wooden hearts I’d purchased for which I had not yet figured out a use. 🙂

When I was finished and everything was dry, I wrapped the twigs up in bubble wrap and packing tape.

Imagine the look on C.C.’s face when he saw the long package and all the paraphernalia I had created for the wedding and heard my request he fit it in the car for me. 🙂  (4 big tubs containing 18 centrepieces wrapped in bubble wrap, 2 big plastic bags of giant flowers I’d made for chairs and other hanging places, multiple strings of lights, 15 heart lights, filler materials for the centrepieces + candlelights. 4 picture frames with various messages plus 8 easels. 1 large wooden canvas for art project. Several meters of blush and silver fabric for draping and anything else we thought we might need it for. Several smaller tubs of craft supplies and odds and sods. wooden wine box with my bouquet. wooden wine box with pot for Wishing Tree…)

It won’t all fit, he said. Don’t forget you’ve got my golf clubs as well as TW’s to bring, your suitcase, my suitcase, Alexis’ suitcase and the suitbags with the outfits too. C.C. was coming a day later with my youngest daughter as my eldest daughter and I were going early to scout out the venue and spend some quality time together. His kids were arriving the day after that along with several others in time for Friday’s Wine Tour.

I know, I replied. But… and I rhymed off several people who had offered to transport materials to the wedding for us. (Thank you AJ and JD, KV and RB and JT and JT!  You helped make it all happen and kept harmony flowing between C.C. and me.) All you have to do honey is get the tubs and frames and stuff I don’t take over to them before you come! I added with a smile.

The long and short of it is, everything arrived at the venue without mishap, C.C. and I kept smiling and we are now married!

On Saturday morning, I set up the Wishing Tree and was grateful for the 3 extra bags of (just in case) marbles I’d brought as well as the painted wooden hearts. They worked perfectly to hold the branches in place in the silver pot I’d painted. I’d also packed some extra pink wicker baskets and again — a perfect solution to hold the card stock I’d created for guests to write their wishes on as well as the pen. Bonus, some of the painted hearts worked great as a writing surface because the only table available for the tree was wicker — and it was not very smooth!

FullSizeRender (51)It is perhaps one of the biggest lessons of an away wedding. Stay flexible. Be prepared and don’t worry about having too much stuff! There’s always a use for it you never anticipated!

Oh, and have really good friends and family willing to cart it all for you!

As to the Wishing Tree — what a wonderful gift we received in the words our friends shared. From a co-worker who once kicked in a door for me (now that’s another story for another day) hoping C.C. will kick in doors for me too, to advice on having SEX often, to always communicating, to always laughing, to always watching each other’s backs, the cards are a delightful reminder of the fun, laughter, joy of our wedding and the people who shared the day with us.

When we shine, we truly are magnificent

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When I was a little girl I wanted to be like the sunshine. To shine and radiate and make everyone all around me feel warm and bright.

And then, I grew up.

In my growing up years I listened to what others had to say about me. The good and the bad, (mostly the bad) and I told myself not to be so silly. Egotistical. Ridiculous.

 

How could I be like the sunshine? I couldn’t even shine bright enough to see the light in my own heart, how was I going to shine so others could see into theirs?

We become what we tell ourselves. Our lives are a reflection of our inner-most thinking.

I lost my light and carried on with living.

When I met the man who wanted me to die for his love, I was just healing from the first relationship I had had since my daughters’ father and I had split up. Knowing I needed to give myself time to breathe after the break-up of my marriage, I didn’t date for a couple of years. And then, I met Sam (not his real name) and fell deeply, passionately in love.

He was perfect.

Except, he was also bi-polar, older than me, very religious and a recovering drug addict. Oh, and did I mention somewhat OCD?

I am creative, impetuous, spiritual but not a follower of one religion. I can be very scattered/cluttered in my own environment and, at the time, I was the mother of two not yet teenage daughters. His were in their 20s and living their own lives.

It was not a relationship built on similar goals and dreams and desires and ways of living.

Sam loved me as I was. He also wanted me to change to fit into his lifestyle. And truthfully, I wanted him to change too.

We struggled to make it work for 2 years until I could no longer deny we were not a match made in heaven, but we sure could make life hell for one another if we stayed together any longer.

I broke off the relationship and a few months later met the man who would promise to love me ’til death do us part, and then got really busy making the death part come true.

I was not ready for love, I told him.

He disagreed.

If it is real now, it will be real in six months, a year, let’s take our time, I said.

I don’t have time, he told me. I am dying of a rare heart disease and will be dead by Christmas if I don’t get a transplant.

And I believed him and I kept falling. Hard.

I thought I was falling in love. I thought I was on the road to happily ever after.

I was lost.

Until that morning of May 21, 2003 when a miracle drove up in a blue and white police car and I was given the gift of my life; a gift I had to choose to honour, cherish, celebrate and love every single day if I was to heal and grow and reconnect with my daughters and help them heal from the pain and agony and turmoil I’d precipitated in their lives through that relationship.

I am blessed.

I have found myself on the other side of that darkness. Found my light shining brightly within.

I have learned the power and strength and endurance of my human spirit.

I have stepped off the edge of my disbelief that love is not true and discovered I have wings to fly free of darkness into the light of knowing, Love is all around. Love is always the answer.

This May 21st will be 12 years since that morning in May when I stood by a river and prayed for release, to end it all, to stop the pain and horror of my life. On that morning in May when I was given the miracle of my life, I had no idea how beautiful, wondrous, amazing life could be. I had no vision of the future.

Today, I do.

My dream has come true.

Today, I know that when I shine a light on the love that flows continuously within and through and all around me, I create a world of loving kindness all around me. I become the mirror of my thoughts and actions.

Today, I know that I am a wondrous woman of worth, a beautiful human being of light and love. Just like you. Because, I am you, you are me and when we shine, we shine so bright all the world can see our magnificence reflected in their eyes!

 

.

 

 

We the people have spoken. It’s time for change.

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quotes-about-change

The ballots were cast. The votes counted. The political landscape of Alberta is different today than it was yesterday. Than it has been for the last 4 decades.

Yesterday, Albertans spoke with every ballot cast.

Yesterday, they said “Enough”.

Enough cronyism. Enough political opportunism and corporate favouritism. Enough of the dynasty.

And like an addict craving one more hit, I could not draw myself away from watching the results on TV. I could not get enough of each political pundit’s viewpoint, the colour coded results showing riding after riding falling under “The Orange Crush”, as media have dubbed the National Democratic Party (NDP) and its charismatic leader, Rachel Notley. I couldn’t quit watching images of cheering crowds chanting “Rachel! Rachel! Rachel!” and the deafening silence of the defeated who had nothing left to say except, “Good-bye”.

Good-bye Progressive Conservatives (PC).

Good-bye Jim Prentice. Your leadership has failed. Your hubris undermined you and the party.

Fear of the unknown is an irrational being. This morning’s headlines are littered with references to economic collapse, departure of business, killing off of the “Alberta advantage.”

What the headlines and politicos forget is, we are resilient. We are entrepreneurial. We are creative.

The NDP are untried, and inexperienced. No one is sure what they will do once they take up the reigns of power. No one knows how they will respond to the financial crisis the collapse of oil prices has brought to provincial coffers, and to the economic fortunes of our province.

What everyone does know is the people of Alberta are still the same people they were yesterday. We still value hard work, stick-to-itness and working together. We still value each other, being good neighbours, taking care of one another. We still value fair pay, fair play and fairness in all our affairs.

The difference today is, political change is here to stay.  The status quo has been shaken. The balance of power not just tilted but turned upside down.

With the undoing of the conservative juggernaut that has gripped our political landscape with such totalitarian control no one could foresee the fall of the mighty PCs, there is much unrest amongst those who man the ivory towers and pump the oil and gas that fuels our economy. Where will they go to curry favour? Who will they cosy up to gain political currency?

Uncertainty fosters creativity. It generates new ideas, new ways of doing things, new roads to explore. While the path may be untrod, the future unknown, there is much that we can count on today.

Today, spring blossoms are bursting forth. Grass is turning green. Dandelions poke their heads up from cracks in the sidewalk and along roads and ditches wild flowers are showing their colours. Wheat fields are being ploughed and in the heart of every Albertan beats the hope that this change will bring new growth, new ideas, new possibilities that will bring us closer to creating a great province, for everyone. Not just those who fill the coffers or hold the purse-strings but those who stand on the margins watching the Alberta advantage miss the mark.

Today, the possibility of every Albertan getting a fair chance at change, shimmers on the horizon, calling each of us to continue what this election has shown so clearly. When we speak up, when we raise our voices together and cast our votes, we can and do make a difference.

Sometimes, change can be scary, but a world where change never happens, is even scarier. And with the PCs, change was not on the agenda.

Now it is.

Now, what we must do is keep our voices strong, keep speaking up and keep ensuring our leaders work for us, not the party. We must keep working together, keep building new paths, new ways of being a province where every voice counts, every voice is heard and every voice makes a difference.

We the people have spoken. It’s time for change.

 

Creating an image of love

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I am always in awe of how people, when given a chance, can be creative.

At our wedding, we wanted to create ‘something’, that represented family, its many facets, colours, elements, members. We wanted to show how our family was coming together. Two parents with their four children, and all the tributaries flowing into One.

Pinterest has lots of interesting ceremonies couples use to show this — sand poured into a jar by the bride and groom; knots tied in a rope, shells added to a dish, names to a figurative tree. The ideas are many and varied.

As an artist I wanted something that reflected not just family coming together, but the creative uniqueness of each of us and how we all contribute in our own special way to the whole.

We decided to do a ‘paint pouring’ ceremony at the wedding.

Pouring paint can be messy. An acrylic pouring medium is added to the paint which can make it very fluid. Once poured onto the canvas its natural desire is to flow everywhere.

That wouldn’t do at a wedding.

We needed something that would flow but would still be thick enough when poured to hold most of its form so that it wouldn’t run off the edges of the canvas onto the floor or people’s clothes. Cactus Arts, one of my favourite purveyors of all things that feed my artistic needs, sells a French brand of paint that was perfect: Pebeo paints are thick, opaque and in some colours, metallic or iridescent. Their ‘flowability’ can be controlled, even when pouring medium is added to them.

Jerry with Judy - pre wedding

Jerry with Judy – pre wedding

Which is why, on Saturday morning of the wedding, when Jerry W. a dear friend arrived at the venue to ask if he could help, I immediately gave him the task of mixing paint. Joyfully he tore off a big piece of plastic to cover his clothes and set himself up in the ‘paint pouring’ corner to complete his task.

An Image of Love

An Image of Love

Later, after C.C. and I had finished the first pour and then our children each had added their colour to the mix, we invited all our guests to join in and help us paint a picture of love and family.

It was spectacular! All through the evening, people poured and laughed and added their special and unique mark to the painting. Some went back to add another mark or came back to see what new element or idea was added.

What began as just an idea turned into a beautiful representation of love, family and friends.

We are delighted. Once I’ve added a resin to the surface to protect it we will hang it in our living room where it will be a beautiful reminder of not just our wedding but of everyone in our lives who add such beautiful and vibrant hues to create the circle of love that is our life.

This is the PDF of the poster that stood on an easel beside the poured Painting

 

And the chairs moved and the sun shone.

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IMG_1177Planning a wedding is a delicate balance of trying to plan for everything and anything, while constantly having to give up control of needing to have it perfect.

Planning a wedding outdoors means perfection cannot even be on the agenda. The weather is its own element, with its own agenda and its own whimsy. You cannot control what it does, when it does it or how. You can only prepare for every eventuality.

On Saturday, April 25th, the rain that had threatened all week became a reality. It fell. All around. All morning.

The valley was shrouded in grey glowering darkness. Misty clouds floated above the surface of the lake, raindrops danced upon the waters.

It was beautiful but it was not what I wanted.

At nine, when I arrived at Bench 1775 Vineyards to help set-up, I was not willing to concede defeat. “Let’s wait until mid-morning before we make the final decision,” I pleaded with Natalie Winsa, our wedding planner. “Of course,” she agreed. “Let’s wait.”

Waiting didn’t make a difference. The rain kept falling. The temperatures were downright cold.

My daughters arrived to help. “You’re going to have to do the ceremony inside,” they cautioned me.

I took a breath and decided it was what it was.

All set up inside...

All set up inside…

“Yes! Let’s set-up inside. It will be different than I imagined but it will still be beautiful.”

And we began the task of creating a space of beauty within while outside the rain tapered off but the skies remained gloomy.

We’d planned on being finished by noon. By one, we were not yet done. Alexis my eldest daughter set the alarm on her phone. “We have to be out of here latest by 2 mom,” she advised me.

“Of course,” I replied as C.C. and I draped fabric over fishing line wire to disguise the corner where all the ‘extra stuff’ was hidden behind the DJ.

TZ, who had been working on beautifying the tent, wrapped the final guy-wire with silver mesh, hung the last whimsical flower I’d made on the centre pole and strung the final silver star. TW swept up debris as his daughter Victoria helped place the final centrepiece.

Alexis’ alarm chimed at 2. “We have to go,” she announced.

I was still waiting for the weather to turn. The rain had stopped but the clouds still hung low. “We have to go, mom. It will be beautiful.”

I knew she was right. The room where we’d set up the chairs for the wedding looked beautiful, as did the tent where all the tables were set.

It’s just, I’d really, really wanted to get married outside, with the lake waters shimmering in the sun and the view expanding out behind us.

We drove back to Therapy Guesthouse to get ready. TW practiced sabering a bottle of champagne and we clapped and laughed as the bubbles came frothing out.

Alexis did my makeup while Ross Tabalada, our amazing photographer, took photos. C.C. and his son T floated around for awhile until we banished them to the downstairs.

The tradition of not seeing the bride until the ceremony runs strong amongst our daughters.

And I just kept smiling and getting ready and practicing letting go of wanting the ceremony outside.

At 4:55 we were ready to leave for the ceremony. C.C. and his son TC had already gone before us. It was just the girls and me, and TW who was driving us over.

My phone pinged.IMG_6569 A text. I looked at the screen. It was just emoticons. A heart and a whole bunch of suns shining.

I text back. “Move the chairs please. Outside.”

And so, the clouds pulled apart. Blue sky appeared and sun streamed through the gaps.

And the chairs moved.

It didn’t matter if the air was still crisp or the clouds hung low upon the horizon. Right where we stood, the sun shone and the breeze felt fresh against my skin as C.C. and I, surrounded by our children, family and friends vowed to love one another, forever and always.

It was perfect in every way.