“Yesterday is history, tomorrow is mystery… today is a gift.” ...Eleanor Roosevelt
I always look forward to opening my mailbox in the morning to see who has written. But the LaQuinta WiFi has been problematic of late… with no connection at all this morning. Starbucks and Barnes and Noble charge for the use of their WiFi – a fact I find odd and slightly disturbing. WiFi use is free at the Avenue Bread on Railroad Avenue in downtown Bellingham – Power to the People – and so we sat there this morning with cups of great coffee, the daily breakfast special, and our laptop computers. The clientele here is a little more colorful too. Finishing breakfast and our online work, we decided to walk to the Saturday Market, only a couple of blocks away.
There is something about the energy of a place like this that fills me with gladness… the beautiful displays of organically grown fruits and vegetables, the pots and trays of herbs and nursery stock, bouquets of fresh-cut flowers, musicians playing acoustic instruments, children, families, and seniors with walkers and in wheelchairs… everyone carrying reusable cloth shopping bags. Suddenly I grabbed hold of Bob’s arm and stopped; silent tears streaked my face. Isn’t it funny that with all the weeks of testing and cancer diagnosis I have shed no tears, but here in this happy place I found myself crying. These are not sad tears; I tried to explain to Bob. It is just that if I only have a short time to live, I am glad it is here… with people like this… small farmers, and potters, artists and bakers of wholegrain bread… people who care about the good Mother Earth. Am I betraying my will to fight cancer by thinking about my death? I hope not because these thoughts come to me unbidden; they sharpen everyday images and I see with greater clarity. As we walked back to the car, the cell phone jingled in Bob’s pocket. It was my son Jeff calling. Yes, today is a gift.
… PLM
“Yesterday is history, tomorrow is mystery… today is a gift.” ...Eleanor Roosevelt
3 Comments:
I've just spent the last few hours reading your blog from the beginning...last September is as far back as I found...and wanted to drop a line and say how much I enjoyed reading about your adventures and your thoughts about the state of things in the world, and particularly in the US.
Having come to a point where I felt familiar with you through your writing, it was very distressing to hear about your illness. I'm sorry you have to be away from your beautiful home while you deal with this, but glad to know you've found a good place to be, and are taking strength from the goodness around you.
You've opened my eyes to many things I didn't know about. The most amazing and emotional one being the story of Granny D. I was shocked when I read they'd arrested her for reading the Declaration of Independence at the Capitol. It seemed incomprehensible why that would happen. But then I googled the story and found out what the judge said to her in private after her hearing, and I just broke down in tears. It makes you feel there really is hope.
I live in Ottawa now, where I was born, but made my home in B.C. for seven years, three of them on Salt Spring Island, where I saw you'd been. B.C. is a magical place, and I can see why you were drawn there as a place of refuge from the nonsense that's going on below the border. For a long time, I dreamed of a life just like yours, and it's fascinating for me to see you, twenty years my seniors, doing what I had long ago decided was beyond my ability.
As a Canadian, I often feel so very helpless when I see what's happening in America. I don't even have a vote as a way to protest, and I always feel like I'm stepping outside my bounds when I express my feelings to Americans (even though most of them share my views). Many times I have thought what a great statement it would make if more Americans did what you did and came to Canada to express their unhappiness with the situation. I wish they would come here in droves. That would certainly be a loud statement to the American administration.
I could not be more proud to be a Canadian. Singing Oh Canada never fails to choke me up. I live in our nation's capital and have the honour and pleasure of being able to drive past the Parliament buildings on a regular basis, and the sight of that Peace Tower with its Canadian flag flapping so stoutly in the wind never fails to bolster my pride. And I feel pride when smart, sensible, concerned, wonderful people like you choose to make this country your home. Because, as wonderful as Canada is, it can always stand to be even more wonderful with the addition of people like you.
I wish you strength and luck with your treatments and hope that you'll both be back home with the red squirrels and the wolves and the mountains as soon as possible. I've added your blog to my Google Reader, so I won't miss a single entry, and look forward to following you on your continuing adventures.
I love the picture of you basket weaving. You look beautiful. My continued prayers for your health and peace.sh
I guess we look alike, Morning Star. Your blog is beautiful, filled with appreciation for the earth and the people. I send you faith, connection, and love on this new journey you are on. Every day is a blessing, may each 24 hours be filled to overflowing with love,
Joanie, the basket maker.
Post a Comment
<< Home