Christmas 2016 - Remembering my dad

I have learned that we each have the power to map our own lives.  It is an enormous power gifted to us at birth and if we journey with love and kindness at our very core, we will be rewarded with the same. Therein lies the secret of happiness and joy!

Larry Vaz (dad) 1930-2016

This year I lost my dad, who was a pivotal anchor in my life.  2016 will be the first Christmas we sit without dad in our midst, and my mother endures the season without the love of her life.  My love for dad is indescribable, but it has filled my mind, heart and soul with a warmth that has sustained me through his loss.  Through my journey with mum and dad I have grown to appreciate and understand that life is a process, and even when we cannot see the silver lining, dad showed me that we can move forward with dignity and courage right up to the very end.  These thoughts are dedicated to my dad who made me smile....

 

Perhaps....

Perhaps some day we will find the secret to combining longevity with good health.

 

Perhaps some day we will all be able to grow old with dignity and not be dependent on others as our limbs give out, our memory betrays us and we feel obsolete, afraid and ashamed.

 

Perhaps some day we will all give more appreciation, honesty, kindness, love and friendship to those we call mum and dad - those special people who have loved us and made incredible sacrifices for us in their lifetime.

Perhaps some day we could know only how to be kind, compassionate and loving, and reject the very idea of cruelty, judgement and hate.

Perhaps some day we will all smile at each other knowing that a smile has the ability to lift the human spirit.

Perhaps the life lesson is that when we love we live well.  Love is not measured by how much we receive but how much we give.


Remembering my darling dad whose last words to me were "I love you too".  What an amazing ride you shared with me, I will carry you forever in my heart.

Our last Christmas together - 2015

Matthew's story....

She walked to the drug store across the street with her hands tightly clasping those of her 2 year old son.  There was a bounce in her step as she imagined happily what might lay ahead for her. Today she kept up with her young boy's pace as he chatted incessantly about cars and trains.  She smiled and asked questions which he eagerly answered.

Once inside the store she went straight to the aisle and selected her item.
"What's that ?" her son inquired
"I'll tell you when we get home.  We can do an experiment together, would you like that?
"Yup"

When they got home she sat down beside him and opened the package.  She read the instructions carefully and then looked into the eyes of her curious toddler and smiled.
" There may be a little baby in my tummy, would you like that?"
"Yeah !"
" Well we can do a little experiment to find out if its true."
"Yeah !".
" If there is a baby in my tummy, he or she can send a message to us in mummy's pee."
"How?"
" Well first I have to go to the bathroom and when I come back we will put a little drop from the dropper right here on this spot.  If there is a baby the spot will show a plus sign"

When she returned she used the dropper as he looked intently at the spot.
" We will have to wait a bit now, do you want to go and play while we wait?"
" No mommy I will sit here and wait for my baby to send me a message"
"Okay I will be right back, do not touch anything"
She left the room for a few minutes and was soon jolted by a loud screech
"We're having a baby! um...can I tell Daddy please!"
"Sure can"
"I love you mom"

Her doctor confirmed the pregnancy and there was a joyful anticipation in the family.  The little boy would start each morning with a "hello baby brother or sister" mouthed to his mother's stomach and a sweet goodnight at bedtime.

Three months later after a routine blood test she got a call at her office from her obstetrician's receptionist.
 "The doctor would like you to have an ultrasound and he has scheduled one for tomorrow."
"Why? Isn't that done much later?"
" Do not worry, why don't you just take the ultrasound and let the doctor take it from there"

A few days later, she received a call from her obstetrician, once again in her office.
" I am referring you to a specialist and he will be able to see you in two days. Will that day be okay for you?'
A pause on her side
"The date is fine , but I'd like to know why you are sending me to a specialist.  Will you no longer be handling my pregnancy?  Please tell me everything I need to know so I can be prepared when I see the specialist."
A pause and a deep breath before the doctor responded.
"I am so sorry to tell you this but the specialist may recommend that you terminate this pregnancy"
"Thank you doctor"
She turned her office chair away from the door and looked out of the large picture window behind  her desk. In the background were lush trees, bright sunshine and birds, but she saw none of that as the warmth of her tears flowed unchecked down her face.

A week later in the genetic specialist's office the couple sat silently as the doctor spoke.  She watched his moving lips and tried to make sense of what he was telling them as they viewed the ultrasound together.  The deep crease that naturally formed between her brows when she frowned was fully engaged as she concentrated on each word.  The words came as swift blows to her heart, and still she kept her mind engaged.

The fetus showed a slight flap on the back of the neck which was most likely indicative of a genetic anomaly.  She was told  that it was advisable to terminate since the probability of a "normal" baby was very small.  Her mind raced with questions, and her heart was filled with fear and anxiety.  After answering a stream of questions the geneticist referred her to a doctor specializing in the study of specific syndromes.

The couple headed to the elevators with a great weight on their hearts, holding hands and walking in silence.  In front of the elevator they paused, tears held back and her husband quietly said " Whatever you want to do, I will support you".  She fell into his arms sobbing.  There were no more words to be said, but the gift of love, respect and understanding from her husband at that moment was exactly what was needed to see them through this sadness.

In her sixth month, an ultrasound revealed that the fetus had died.  An induced labor was scheduled  at the hospital, however after a period of intense pain the delivery happened naturally before the scheduled date.  In that moment she took some time to understand what had just happened, but she had the courage to hold what would have been her baby in the palm of her hand.  She saw it was a male curled up in the fetal position. He was so small and as she looked at him his head fell back and she saw a perfectly formed face and head. The eyes, nose and lips had formed and he was a perfect miniature baby only four or five inches long and looked so much like her first born son.  She named him Matthew and through her tears she told him how much she and his dad loved him, and that his older brother would be heartbroken because he never had a chance to grow up with him. 

That day was November 22, 1989.....






 

Mother Teresa

Mother Teresa. (Image by Evert Odekerken, CC)

Canonization  is a celebrated event in the Catholic Church.  Most recently a very public, internationally known "Mother Teresa" was granted Sainthood.  While this was received with joy by many Catholics, it was stunning to hear harsh and negative criticism of Mother Teresa.

Several years ago when Christopher Hitchens published his book "The Missionary Position" I was astounded at the negativity hurled at this saintly figure.  Today I have had time to think and approach the subject with a little more objectivity.

At the end of the day it is a personal choice we make to believe in someone's goodness.  I have never met Mother Teresa or visited her homes.  I have never even seen the streets of Calcutta.  Instead I chose to believe what I had been told about the subject and what I had read and seen in the media.

Today I have read many articles both favorable and unfavorable, and have come to the conclusion that Mother Teresa was indeed human.  She was not a God or a Saint in her lifetime on earth, but she left an impression that has moved many hearts.  Keeping in mind her humanity, I was able to understand she could not live up to every body's standards or expectations, not even her own. Her humanity also has to include her moments of darkness when she felt alone and abandoned by God as she outlined in her many letters to her confessors.

In the book Mother Teresa: Come Be My Light  in which her personal letters of confession have been published (although she asked that they be destroyed), the following excerpt reveals her struggles with spirituality

"If I ever become a Saint—I will surely be one of 'darkness,'" she wrote. "I will continually be absent from Heaven—to (light) the light of those in darkness on earth."

Faith is a choice. Belief is a choice. However, I have come to understand that we do not have to deny a person's vulnerability because of our innate desire to believe they were supernatural.  Mother Teresa has become for me an astounding figure of endurance, tenacity and courage.  A courage to carry on even though she herself had lost faith and even hope in her many moments of darkness. 

My understanding of Mother Teresa's ambitions was that she felt called upon by God to give dignity to the poorest of the poor, the abandoned, the sick and dying.  I can only imagine how over a period of over sixty years this kind of ministry would be dark, depressing and overwhelming.  However, she carried on till the end.  

Although she has been criticized for becoming a celebrity of sorts, this was our doing not hers.  We, the masses put her on a pedestal, spoke of her as a living saint and were moved by her presence.  She continued in her ministry, living humbly and working alongside her helpers.  I remind myself that Mother Teresa started off on her own.  She left the comfort of teaching at a Loreto Convent to begin her works of Charity single handed and without any funding or support.  A humble story that starts with a little known nun with a vision and ends with her world wide status as a saintly figure to many.

I look at Mother Teresa as a symbol of endurance.  Her haunting religious doubts and dark days serve to remind me that not only was she human, she made a super human effort to carry on with the work she believed in, even though she did not see light and joy in her daily efforts of reducing the  suffering of the poor.  It is to this end that I see her humanity, and it is her humanity that moves me.

Mother Teresa's life and death can be summed up in these words written by Kent M. Keith and published in 1968..... ( often misrepresented as being said by Mother Teresa)

People are often unreasonable and self-centered. Forgive them anyway.
If you are kind, people may accuse you of ulterior motives. Be kind anyway.
If you are honest, people may cheat you. Be honest anyway.
If you find happiness, people may be jealous. Be happy anyway.
The good you do today may be forgotten tomorrow. Do good anyway.
Give the world the best you have and it may never be enough. Give your best anyway.
For you see, in the end, it is between you and God. It was never between you and them anyway.

Mother Teresa: Come Be My Light: The Private Writings of the Saint of Calcutta

A Saint’s Dark Night By JAMES MARTINAUG. 29, 2007

The Missionary Position: Mother Teresa in Theory and Practice Paperback – April 10, 2012

The Angelus bells tolled and daddy went home...

Larry Vaz - my dad

My dad would often tell me stories of his young days when playtime was outdoors, and roaming the neighborhood was child's play. However it was a rule that whenever the Church bells rang in the evening all children were expected to head home.  Families would then gather together to say the Angelus at six o'clock every evening, and supper would soon follow.  A beautiful Catholic tradition that has lost its way through the generations.

Yes my dad was a devout Catholic. His faith was practiced in kindness, charity and goodwill, and not in the judgement of others.  He always had his family in his heart and mind, and his happiest moments were spent with his family in conversation and laughter. He accepted each of us for who we were and we all sat on a special pedestal in his heart.

Through the years I grew more attached to my father, not at all what I imagined would happen after marriage and children.  But dad was like a light that drew us in.  Shamelessly my husband and children would find ourselves seeking out this light and finding that he would generously brighten up our moments.  Selfishly we yearned for more time with him as his struggle to remain healthy became a loosing battle in his later years.

The year 2016 had us reeling with three hospital stays.  During this time my parents had to leave their home of 43 years to move to a retirement home. The third and final hospital stay came in June.
Through it all the model patient's only request was to know when my husband would be coming to take him home.  Only this time he would be leaving the hospital on his own terms, peacefully as his family laughed, conversed, held his hand, kissed him and shed the occasional tears.

Dad had already witnessed my son Alex's graduation and his marriage, two items he had told me he wanted to  live for.  Last year I had asked dad to set another goal to live for.  Without a second thought my dad answered "Emmy's graduation".  My daughter Emmy had cast a strange spell over my dad since her birth.  Whilst growing up anyone of his children who sat next to dad while watching TV had the job of giving him back scratches - of course this was usually me!  The scratching never ended, and dad would say "over here, to the right, in the middle...", and so on until I made some excuse and he would finally laugh and pull down his undershirt.  When Emmy was born with the same obsession for back scratches it was my dad who would patiently sit beside her fulfilling her endless wishes.

On June 17, 2016, I got a call to take dad straight to the hospital.  It was the same day we were getting ready to attend Emmy's convocation in Guelph.  Dad had managed to check off yet another item on his bucket list - Emmy's graduation. Exactly one week later in dad's hospital room, his loved ones decided to spend the day by his side playing his favorite music, recounting funny stories and re-living heartfelt memories.  My mother, the love of his life tightly held his hand as she sat beside him.  In the very quiet ward and past the closed doors of his private room, nurses and passers-by could hear laughter and conversation.
Late that evening daddy quietly left us a few minutes before 6 pm.   At that moment I would remember his childhood stories, and know instantly that our playtime was over.  Dad had heard the Angelus bells toll and gone home to rest in peace.

Love your aging parents - be compassionate and generous with your time

Always a hoot hanging out with mum and dad

I have spent most of this year immersed in the ill health of my aging father, and the enormous anxiety of my mother as she watches and hopes that they will continue to have each other in the times ahead.  She too has her own health and well being to manage, but the two of them wake up each morning with the other in mind and look to each other before they lay down at night - incredibly in the same bed as they have done for the last 62 years.

One cannot be actively involved with the care of older parents without taking away a sense of compassion and understanding of the aging process, and the daunting vulnerability of the beautiful beings that inhabit aging bodies.

My parents come from an era of pride and dignity.  They are not ones to complain to others of their hardships, instead they move on with a sense of dignity, hoping and praying that only good will come out of each situation.  My dad has been unable to fulfill his role of decision maker and savior of his family.  Forgetfulness and other physical health issues have taken that ability from him.   My mother who was the nurturer has had to fill some of these roles even though she is not experienced in any of them.  After another four weeks in hospital dad is back at home. 

How does an already vulnerable, aging wife like my mum, take on the constant decision making that is thrown at her while only hoping that her husband will be well, and that they can continue to live together independently?

These issues have now become my issues. Finances still have to be managed.  Medical decisions and care requirements have to be made on an ever-changing and ongoing basis.   Medical visits have to be taken care of, and supplies purchased. While one day a parent is walking, the next day a walker may be needed and eventually even a wheelchair which may ultimately lead to being permanently bedridden .  Of course these issues become my issues, and the worry is transferred to me, while I sift through information, talk endlessly to services that can offer assistance, try to help my mum whilst not burdening her with the endless paperwork, and the eventual consideration of a nursing home.  All this has to be done while still allowing my parents to maintain their sense of independence and their privacy as a couple. Daunting to say the least.

Sick and aging parents place a family in crisis.  Only the willing step up to the plate.  It is a journey that is scary, daunting, tearful, overwhelming, and sometimes even seems hopeless. Your very own life is placed on hold.  Your own family must be understanding and considerate of the fact that you do not own your time any more.  Your spouse is called upon to make sacrifices for his or her adopted parents.  It is a journey of love.  It is the love affair that no fairy tales or romance novels talk about, but it is a love affair all the same. Only your love will sustain you when you feel alone and hopeless and overburdened.  Only the memories of the journey that you have traveled together with your parents will sustain you, and only your compassion and love to see them trouble-free will push you forward.

I give myself permission to feel sorry for myself, or have a pity party every now and then, but most often I am by their side, or handling issues on their behalf, knowing that they had many struggles in their lifetime, but their children always came first.  My mum and dad paid for us to be in private schools, a sacrifice they chose to make.  They never traveled without us anywhere, it was always a family event.  I never knew what a babysitter was.  There was always a warm meal prepared lovingly by my mother, and a special treat for tea.  She was so nurturing that when we woke up every morning, our tooth brushes were already lined up with toothpaste on it and placed beside our own personal colored mug of warm water to wash our mouth with. When we arrived at the table, our breakfast was laid out for us, with a multi-vitamin beside each plate, and then my dad would drive us to school.

At forty my dad made a decision to immigrate to Canada.  It was only when I met people who had worked with him in the Country he left behind, that I realized he was a success story at a young age, admired and accomplished in his career.  He gave it all up so that his children might have an even better future in this land called Canada.  A decision I thank my parents for a million times over.  Their courage and sacrifice gave me and my siblings a glorious future.

Now they are scared and feel vulnerable.  Still negotiating life in Canada after 44 years in this new home of theirs.  In the old country seniors lived with one of their children and died surrounded by family and grandchildren.

The price of independence is that we sometimes age alone.  It does not have to be this way.  While we may not live in the same household we must maintain our relationships with our parents. Our children must be encouraged to visit and spend time with their grandparents.  Ultimately it is our loving duty to ensure that our senior parents feel safe and loved.  They provided us with that sense throughout our lives and now they need us to show them the same.

My children still love their grandparents.  They have had many memories growing up with their "nana and duppy".  Our lives have intertwined without disruptions and the cycle continues as we navigate this new curve.  My husband has been supportive, loving and instrumental in giving my parents the reassurances they need at this time in their lives.   I would not hesitate to ask my children to pitch in as required, and they have done so already.

Through this process we become richer and understand how fragile life is.  One day I will need compassion as I face the years ahead with a forgetful mind, shaky hands on a walker..... and nothing but the hope to see a loved one show up to lend me a hand.  Know that my eyes will light up and my spirit will glow.  You may not even notice that my heart is singing at the sight of you, my dear children and maybe future grandchildren!

Life is a journey, sometimes we choose to leave people behind that love us dearly.   Choose instead to walk beside them.  It is only when we endure the journey together, through good times and bad, that we truly understand the meaning of being loved and the joy that comes with it.

Words of wisdom from an unknown author...

Tish and Pingoo

There is a time in one's life when we read a dialogue and it rings true in every fiber of our being.  For me that time is now.
Watching my parents age with grace and dignity and battle illness with courage allowed me to find wisdom and perspective in these words. 
I have learned that in a lifetime we enjoy so much love, laughter and joy, but we also endure much pain - both physical and emotional.
I have loved and been loved dearly in my lifetime.  I have also lost people I loved through death which I have come to terms with, and through absence which is a little harder to reconcile.
I have however realized that I am in a good place.  Life happens... we learn, we grow and we always have to keep our hearts open to giving and receiving love.
- Lisette


These words were written by an unknown author.

I’ve learned that you cannot make someone love you. All you can do is be someone who can be loved. The rest is up to them;
I’ve learned that no matter how much I care, some people just don’t care back;
I’ve learned that it takes years to build up trust, and only seconds to destroy it.
I’ve learned that you can get by on charm, for about fifteen minutes. After that, you’d better know something;
I’ve learned that either you control your attitude or it controls you.
I’ve learned that no matter how hot and steamy a relationship is at first, the passion fades and there had better be something else to take it’s place.
I’ve learned that sometimes the people you expect to kick you when you’re downhill are the ones to help you get back up.
I’ve learned that sometimes when I’m angry I have the right to be angry.
I’ve learned that true friendship continues to grow, even over the longest distance. Same goes for true love.
I’ve learned that just because someone doesn’t love you the way you want them to doesn’t mean that they don’t love you with all they have.
I’ve learned that maturity had more to do with what types of experiences you’ve had and what you’ve learned from them and less to do with how many birthdays you’ve celebrated.
I’ve learned that your family won’t always be there for you.
I’ve learned that no matter how good a friend is, they’re going to hurt you every once in a while.
I’ve learned that it isn’t always enough to be forgiven by others. Sometimes you have to forgive yourself.
I’ve learned that no matter how bad your heart is broken, the world doesn’t stop for your grief.
I’ve learned that our background and circumstances may have influenced who we are, but we are responsible for who we become.
I’ve learned that just because two people argue, it doesn’t mean they don’t love each other. And just because they don’t argue, it doesn’t mean they do.
I’ve learned that we don’t have to change friends if we understand that friends change.
I’ve learned that two people can look at the exact same thing and see something totally different.
I’ve learned that no matter how you try to protect your children, they will eventually get hurt and you will get hurt in the process.
I’ve learned that your life can be changed in a matter of hours by people who don’t even know you.
I’ve learned that it’s hard to determine where to draw the line between being nice and not hurting people’s feelings and standing up for what you believe.

April 2016 brings...my dad back in hospital again

My dad - My hero. Taken in the late fifties.

Earlier this year I blogged about my dad going into hospital at the beginning of the New Year, and his exit from hospital in February. A bitter-sweet moment for mum and dad.  Although dad was deemed ready to leave the hospital he could no longer return to the same house they had known since their arrival in Canada.  Reluctantly, and with great sadness they made a transition straight from the hospital to a retirement home.  It seemed the perfect solution for my parents since dad could no longer handle the 4 flights of stairs that he magically ascended and descended for the 43 years they lived in their own home. A home we all grew up in as we made Canada our very own new home.

We realized that dad's illness had taken a great toll on mum too.  She never complained and their difficulties only strengthened their bonds and their devotion to each other.  Living in the retirement home would give mum the assistance she deserved with meals already prepared, and smaller household tasks that the home provided.

My husband and myself had to embark on emptying my parents' home and moving some items to their new space.  I was surprised to find myself breathless after taking on the four flights in one swoop in order to get to the bedrooms.  I was filled with a new sense of respect for my elderly parents who fought tooth and nail to remain in their home despite their frailties.  We could not imagine how they handled daily living in that environment, albeit cautiously but never-the -less they made it quite well up to the bedrooms, and down to the basement to do their laundry.

I re-lived so many years of memories woven into the fabric of their lives - the excitement of moving in when we first purchased the home, to the many birthdays, anniversaries, our graduations, engagements, weddings, and finally the births of our children as the new grandparents glowed with joy.  So many chats across the kitchen table. Mum always ready with a cup of tea and something to nibble on as we chatted. Our dogs by her feet knowing that mum's cupboards also hid special treats just for them.  The traditional Christmas Eve family gathering that took place in this home for the last 43 years would finally be no more.  I quietly accepted that it was the end of a chapter, but that the story was not over yet.

With grandchildren came a side of my parents we never knew - a more forgiving, gentle, lenient approach to raising children, whereby they looked like heroes and we looked like ogres.
My children would call them when they needed comfort, or another ear to listen to their hardships, joys and achievements. Mum and dad affectionately known as Duppy and Nana were the soft place of comfort that my children came to rely on.

After close to 2 months in their new home, dad has returned to hospital. His devoted wife by his side day and night.  I was with dad yesterday while we forced mum to leave for a few hours to give herself a break.

In those moments alone together dad always delivers a special gift to me.  One that is made up of words neatly tied up with love and courage.  A gift that leaves me warm and fuzzy, and somehow gels the meaning of life in a few words from the heart.

Our conversation went something like this.  His eyes fluttered open from a deep sleep to find me sitting by his bedside.  After realizing he was in a hospital bed he looked at me and sadly stated,
" Lisette I am giving you lots of trouble"
Jokingly I answered, " Dad, consider it payback for all the trouble we gave you as kids"
Dad's eyes got misty and he said " You were never trouble, it was my pleasure looking after you"

No response was necessary!

Goodbye to my friend...Olinda

Olinda's irises

I met her quite by chance in 2008.  An attractive angel with a most alluring and magnetic pull. Fate meant us to sit next to each other that day and slowly our words bloomed into a friendship.  She was so easy to talk to and our conversation danced with the ideas of each others philosophies on life.  We had so much in common. Her gentle spirit touched me, and when we parted I did so with a smile in my heart.

I did not know that soon she would be my guardian, my mentor and my champion as I took on an overwhelming community project with my husband.  At times when I felt disheartened during fundraising, or burdened with the sheer size of the project, my phone would ring.
It was my Angel on earth  calling to reassure me and to prop up my confidence  She never wavered in her conviction that I would be the master of my task.

In a world where ego rules, my charming friend and anchor was so humble that even I was not aware of her many achievements and highlights as a journalist. She was so creative and passionate about any project she undertook, that the only out come would be success and at its finest.

Her big heart gave her the capacity and strength to live with her parents and take care of her aging father and mother.  Her dad needed much care as he aged and she was his anchor. As my father went through his failing health and geriatric issues, my phone would ring and an angelic voice would hold me up .  She never sugar coated her advice, it was always straight up and accurate.  I never ever felt hurt by her observations and guidance, instead I felt respected and loved.  Only a true friend can tell you what you need to hear.

She soon became a part of my family, loving my husband and my children as her own. She insisted we spend time at her sister's "cottage' and that my children and dogs come with us (without their boyfriends/girlfriends).  I will always treasure that weekend we spent...chatting till the wee hours of the morning, laughing together with my husband and children in tow. It was an amazing time, and my family soon became enveloped in her cocoon of love.  Over that weekend she pulled out an iris tuber from her sisters garden and gave it to me. I planted it in my front garden and affectionately called it Olinda's Irises. They bloom every spring.

In 2014 when my son got married I could not imagine my friend not being there.  She was so excited for us.

I truly believe in soul mates. Olinda was destined to cross my path, light up my life and play a significant role in my personal growth and understanding of humanity.  I felt empty and sad when I heard of her passing on in January 2016.  My dad was in hospital at that time, but I found comfort in believing that Olinda was in a peaceful place. Her great spirit of love and understanding can only transform her to an angel in a different space and time. 

I love you Olinda. I was not alone in loving you, but you made me feel like I was the only one that mattered every time we engaged.  You were always a free spirit, and now your spirit is free.  May you continue to be loved in your new journey.....

Our 34 year marriage - in retrospect

February 13, 2016

It was heartwarming receiving all the congratulatory messages from friends and family as we crossed the 34 year milestone of marriage. Once, long ago, we were two bright eyed young friends that fell in love and ultimately decided that we could not imagine life without the other in it. This was the easy part.  In time we learned that love alone cannot sustain a marriage.  Faith in each other, hope, trust, forgiveness and determination would all play a role.

Raising children added depth to our partnership and made us discover the art of selflessness.  Through our children we found that our hearts were big enough to handle more than our love for each other.  We were amazed at our capacity for love when our family grew. Suddenly, and with no warning we realized that as a couple we were no longer the center of our universe but our children were.

It would be so easy to take all the credit for making it through the years.  
In retrospect it was a network of people that came together at different stages of our journey to weave memories, make bridges, mend fences, and bring laughter and joy and more importantly place the rocks on which our foundation of love has had a place to grow on.   There were times  when we needed the broad shoulders of others to cry on , the strong arms of loved ones to embrace us and the never ending belief that no matter what came our way we would never forget that life was unimaginable without the other in it.

We started our journey with starry eyes thinking the two of us could conquer the world armed with only love for one another.  Reality set in quickly and at times we found that we were our own worst enemies, each independent, strong willed and confident that our way was the only way.  Each of us ambitious and intelligent, and quickly learning that these were not the skills needed to have an enduring marriage.  Slowly we learned to respect each other's space , finding our own safe spot within the marriage, and allowing each other room to grow.

Marriage is indeed a conundrum because through it all we have discovered that we are both independent yet dependent on each other, and  we are both individuals,  yet we need each other to complete us.

No one can tell the future, but after thirty four years together we have reached a stage where there is comfort in silence, there is joy in companionship, and there is the gratitude that we long ago recognized that life would be unbearable without the other in it.  So we move forward knowing that we are still two strong willed individuals that fate has somehow destined to be soulmates and  it is this sense that brings us joy in our journey together.

2016 starts with my dad in hospital...

At the end of last year my last words blogged were....

"In a world of constant change, I will arm myself with only 3 tools, the ability to live, the ability to laugh, and the ability to love.  Some days I may live without laughter, but I resolve never to live without love. "

How little did I know that I would be called upon to live these words through the cusp of the 2016 New Year.

An early call from my mother on New Years Eve sent my husband and myself running over to my parent's house. My 85 year old father had been battling pneumonia, but had seemed to be recovering quite well until the night before.  We arrived to find him wheezing, breathing with discomfort and utterly exhausted and weak.
Before the day was over, dad was taken to Hospital in an ambulance and after many hours at the Emergency unit, later that evening he was admitted into the Hospital's care. Throughout this time, my mother stood staunchly by dad's side not revealing the anxiety that the only man she loved for the last 62 years was looking frightfully frail and vulnerable.  One can only imagine what thoughts were passing through her mind as she watched him struggle to sit up straight. Later that day my sister joined us by mum's side.

Overnight that first night in the hospital, my mother and husband spent the night with dad, holding him down as delirium took over him and his words became unintelligible.  The next day I took over as I saw my dad in the worst condition I had ever witnessed. The delirium had taken over, and my father was lost in a world that I barely recognized.  Moving in time from his youth to the present without pause or consideration to the reality that I was present in. At times I laughed at his utterances which made so much sense in an alternate universe. At times I cried as he pleaded with me to grant some need that I could not fulfill. No matter what illusion or delusion we passed through in the tiny emergency ward we were in, there was never a shortage of love.

The consistent thread in dad's mumbling was always my mother's name. They met as teenagers. Fell in love under the unsuspecting eyes of her guardians whom she lived with in Africa, and somehow managed moments of communication through love letters secretly passed between them with the help of mum's younger sister.  This secret courtship took seven years before ending in marriage in India, with the blessing of my mum's widowed mother and her immediate family.  My dad was 23 years old when he married. I am overcome with awe at the courage it took for mum and dad back in the day to secretly leave Africa separately without her guardians' knowledge of the imminent marriage, and travel so far to commit their love for each other.  In a world of unwritten heroes, they are my personal heroes!

Through the emotional roller coaster with dad in hospital, there was one moment when I was alone with dad when he was in a lucid state.  He held my hand tightly and asked " How is mum?"
I answered "Do not worry, she is okay we are taking care of her, you just get well and come home"
He looked at me and with a very shaky hand touched my face. The other hand was grasped tightly in mine.  He gently stroked my face, and with tears in his eyes feebly said,
 "Thank you.  Thank you for looking after us".
 Through my own weepy eyes I replied
"Thank you dad for looking after me my whole life. I love you"

Truly one of many special moments to treasure. Definitely a moment of living and loving.... I believe the laughter will soon follow.