Clarissa's Love

Eager for them to begin playing, Clarissa closed her eyes and held her breath. 

The first time she’d been to a symphony was when she was 5 years old. She remembered it like it was yesterday. A Christmas Symphony. The music was magical. There were Christmas carols she knew from church and classical music; in her teen years, music from the movies. As a 5 year old, she didn’t know the names of the pieces of music but it didn’t matter. She went on with her young life, begging her parents every year to take her to the Symphony. In high school she joined the marching band, learning to play the trombone and finally learning those names of the music she loved. After school she took violin lessons. Her goal was to be a member of a symphony orchestra and play the Christmas music she had heard as a child. Whether it was in the brass section or the string section, it didn’t matter. She only knew she wanted to be part of that wonderful music. Now in her 80’s, arthritis crippling her hands, she could no longer play, but there was nothing wrong with her hearing. 

When the music rose in one grand layered melody from the orchestra, she opened her eyes and breathed in the magnificence that she loved.

“A symphony must be like the world. It must contain everything.”

~ Gustav Mahler

 

An Idea to Dance To

Determined to develop something new, something fresh…….but what? Ted had been in his 9 to 5 office job for so long that he had grown restless. It was a restlessness full of anxiety. It had been a good job. He’d worked his way up in the company, with a good salary. Benefits were excellent; he wouldn’t have to worry about his finances. His married life was over. His beloved Grace of fifty-five years had passed away. They had had plans to travel; to visit their children scattered over the globe. Get to know their grandchildren. Now he didn’t know whether he could do that. He’d listened to the office talk about ‘The Golden Bachelor’ TV series. From the gossipy chatter, he could tell that life wasn’t for him. His wife’s passing was still too fresh. 

It had been too easy to get up, get ready for work, have breakfast, drive the 10 km to work and be at his desk by 8:45am. Do his management job until 5 and head home. Sometimes late if an issue came with one of the staff. But he liked to keep his time to the minute. He’d pick up Grace, when she was still working, and they go for supper. Now it was microwaved meals or a burger at the diner close to home. He always picked up his mail after work, kept the bills out and threw away the flyers, the coupons for meals, any junk mail. But one was different. He was tempted to throw it out with the recycling, but it was maybe the bright colours and the ink pencil sketch of a couple dancing that caught his eye. There it was: Jazz Dancing Lessons! He and Grace had loved to dance but they had never gotten brave enough to do anything but a standard waltz, maybe a little bit of jive. He propped the brochure in front of the salt and pepper shaker. Sat down with his microwaved Mac and cheese and studied it. “What do you think, Grace?” Her picture was always with him at meal times, her gentle face smiling at him. “I think you should go for it, Ted.” Startled he looked up. “Don’t look so surprised ~ you asked my opinion. Dance, my darling.” In her chair across from him, he could see her. He reached out to touch her and she was gone. 

That evening, Ted called the Dance Studio.

“Show me slowly what I only know the limits of 

Dance me to the end of love." 

~ Leonard Cohen, Leonard Cohen: Poems and Songs

 

Heroes and Essays

“I didn’t have time, Mr. Samson! You should have seen the work my mom and dad gave me this weekend. I wanted to get the essay written. Really I did!” Ralph was desperate. How could he get his teacher to believe him? What if he called his parents? He’d be hooped! Hanging his head, he caved. “Yes I had to do lots of chores this weekend but that’s not really why. I’m sorry, I just didn’t want anyone to know. “When I could get away from my chores, I went to the batting cages. The baseball diamond was empty when I got there.” Nine year old Ralph looked up at this stone faced teacher, tears in his eyes. “I just want to play baseball, sir.”

Mr. Samson’s face softened, not so much that his young student would notice. “Well then Ralph. That’s not a reason to neglect your homework. It’s a fine idea to have heroes. But heroes had to do their homework too.” He had no idea about baseball or base ball players, but needed to say something. “I’m going to change your assignment. You still have an essay to write, but I want you to choose your favourite baseball player. Write about him.” Ralph snapped upright, his face shining, he wiped his wet face with his sleeve. “Really! Gee, thanks Mr. Samson. I won’t disappoint you!!

The two men, one tall and stern; the other short and excited left the classroom while Ralph bubbled over with nine year old knowledge about Babe Ruth.

“Only children believe they are capable of everything.”

~ Paulo Coelho

 

Chapter Two, Episode 160 - Matt and Dez - IDEAS November Theme - Situationally Theirs

“I didn’t have any idea what your doctor friend wanted me to say.” 

Determined to distance himself from her sister and doctor husband, Matt hoped that he hadn’t made Dez angry.

Eager for them to have a nice day, Dez didn’t mention that Matt really did know Jeremy’s name - he was more than her 'doctor friend'.

Amazed that he was so uncomfortable, she changed the subject.

Sorting through holiday brochures, she handed him one. “What do you think about this cruise, Matt?” She had no opinion about the River Cruise, but wanted to distract him. He took it from her, opening out on the table. “Looks alright, but don’t you want to go to the Caribbean?” 

“Right now, I just want to get off the Island. I miss the wandering I did in my younger years. It feels like I’ve been boxed in too long. I know the pandemic's been over since May, but I still feel trapped.”

“I know what you mean, Dez. Just feels tight. Why don’t we skip the cruises and drive south. We could get down to Mexico, hit a small town, just relax for a couple of weeks. We don’t even have to get that far, we could just drive. What do you think?”

Dez grinned. “That’s more like it! When I picked up these brochures, I wasn’t sure it was something you’d like to do. But I didn’t think of asking you first. A cruise would just keep me boxed in. But, just driving. I like that, Matt.” She twisted the engagement ring on her left hand. Decided to keep quiet about what she was thinking. 

~~~~~

Matt Hamilton had never been one for vacations, or holiday. The life of an orchardist could lend itself to time off, but he and his previous wife never agreed on when or where. His boys always wanted to go to someplace expensive or too far away. He sometimes took them fishing; as they reached their teens, they took up skiing at Whistler. He’d take them and their friends up, and then enjoy the lodge. “Come on, dad. Just try skiing - take a lesson.” They begged and pleaded with him but finally shouldered their skis and trudged off to the slopes. He couldn’t tell them he’d had a serious skiing accident as a young man that had sworn him off of that sport. He worried about this sons.

Meeting Dez had been a surprise. He had sworn off of women after his marriage went so wrong. His wife and sons lived on the mainland now. He’d get then over to the island once a year, but hadn’t seen them in almost 4 years because of the pandemic. He didn’t talk about it with Dez, but she had seen their pictures on the walls of his living room. Their jackets hanging in the closet, ball caps on on the shelf above. Other paraphernalia of teenage boys in odd places around the house; old gym shoes, hoodies, an old baseball mitt. He wondered how they’d all get along. They’d be coming to the island for Christmas. Their mom was going off on a cruise with her partner. She’d called him and said they’d be there for Christmas. Didn’t ask if he would be busy or on the moon, just said “I’m sending the boys to you at Christmas. I’ll send you their itinerary when I get it set up.” Dez was so different from her. But he wouldn’t walk on eggshells with her like he had with his ex. He also knew that Dez wouldn’t put up with it and that he wouldn't have to. She had agreed to marry him, but wasn’t pushing for a date. This vacation might be the right time for it. He’d think on it and maybe talk with her about it. 

“We spend so much time bantering about the words when 

the real open conversations might very well be our actions.”

~ Anna Deavere Smith, 

American actress, playwright and professor

 

Detours

Straight forward ~ take the #40 straight to the Golden Mile Plaza. First stop: Old Fashioned Foods; around the corner to Good Earth for coffee with Louise Penny’s Kingdom of Blindness; down the sidewalk and across the parking lot to Superstore for groceries. Home. Should only take about 2 hours.

My first detour: Wasn’t that cold today, but I took the first bus that came along………….wrong bus! Got out at the next bus stop and hustled back to a correct bus stop ~ #7 saved me. Everything went as planned until I had coffee in hand. A lady was standing up, buttoning her coat… “Are you leaving?” (it was my favourite table.) “No, but you can sit down here.” We visited for an hour and a half! Great conversation - we covered all the important topics - grandkids, dogs, family, politics, money…….. No more detours! Got my groceries for making granola on Friday, got the correct bus home……….Took me about four hours! It was fun though!

“Life doesn’t always go the way you planned it to go. 

Sometimes you have detours you have to take.”

~ Andrew McCutchen

 

Photo Op

through verdant foliage

beached logs relax 

on a warm spring day.

“…..and then, I have nature and art and poetry, 

and if that is not enough, what is enough?”

~ Vincent Willem van Gogh

Now and Then

2014 - Calgary Olympic Rink

Now: I watched through plexiglass as a gaggle of four year olds attempted to skate. Wobbly or flat on the ice. Held up by their parent or sliding on little bums; skating like some were born to it - baby steps though. No one was crying though. I loved watching them all - especially my own little skater - a very special great grand-daughter. 

Then: I really miss skating! The slicing sound of blades cutting the ice, the laughter and music of the skating rink, the ice-cold wind in my hair as I skated really fast (sometimes with out falling), and twirling and trying to skate like the bigger girls…. 

“Sometimes my skating allows me to do things I never dreamed possible.”

~ Kurt Browning