Oh, Canada!

In college I flew with my French class to Quebec. After exploring beautiful, bright, and historically rich Quebec City, we drove in a rented bus to our destination of Sept Iles on the Gulf of St. Lawrence. I distinctly remember a day at a cabin further up the gulf. The cabin belonged to the family of one of our  student exchange partners, and we had been invited there to celebrate all things maple syrup, it being March and the time of the running of the sap. We ate fried ham and eggs smothered in syrup, and curled golden ribbons of maple taffy around sticks in the snow. The day was radiant with early spring sunshine which bounced off the snow on the shore and lit up the blue water, beckoning me outside. I trudged by myself to the shore and put my hand into the Gulf, thrilled to have finally reached the Atlantic.  I stood by the water for a while wishing I could sail across to New Brunswick and tour the Maritimes as well (something I have yet to do). I thought of the four large provinces I had crossed to get to where I was standing. I felt a connection to the vastness and variety of my country right then and there, and I think that is the moment I truly fell in love with Canada. I have been a proud Canadian every since. I care deeply about what happens in this country.

Canada recently lost our 18th Prime Minister, Brian Mulroney. He is an important figure in my memory because I had just started to pay attention to politics when he was running for election in 1984. I was fifteen at the time, and had become friends with a girl whose parents were Progressive Conservatives and fans of Mulroney. To say my parents were not was a bit of an understatement. They had been Pierre Eliot Trudeau fans and fairly staunch Liberals up to that point. I remember coming home from my friend's house and saying I liked this new Mulroney candidate and hoped he would win. This caused a few raised eyebrows. Meech Lake and Free Trade were the buzzwords in Canada at the time. When I started to pay real attention to what was at stake I changed my mind about Mulroney's policies, but that does not mean I decided he was a terrible man. He had won the right to be Prime Minister by our democratic process, and was serving his country in the way he thought right and good. Not only that, but he gained the respect of his colleagues, whatever political side they were on, simply for his intelligence, his passion for his country, his sense of fair play and respectful discourse.

These days, we can be incredibly vicious when it comes to the members of the opposing political 'teams'. It is not enough to disagree with another party's policies. We have to hate them for them. Growing up, this approach seemed to me unique to the US or Britain, not to Canada where we have a reputation for politeness and mutual respect, even in politics. Politicians who would shout opinion from opposite sides of Parliament could often be friends outside of it. That is not so true anymore; I cannot imagine Pierre Pollievre, right wing leader of the Opposition and PM Justin Trudeau having enough in common to be friends. The pandemic exposed the nasty underbelly of political opinion in this country. We have seen some ugly scenes play out here in the last few years, scenes I never thought possible before now. Even though I am in favour of political satire to keep the powers in check, the vitriol aimed at Trudeau these days is shocking to me. Is our Prime Minister my favourite person? No, but he doesn't need to be. Do I think people are justified to slap "Fuck Trudeau" bumper stickers on their vehicles for everyone, including children of reading age, to see? Hell no. What kind of example does that set to the younger generations?  I'm ashamed every time I see one of those stickers or flags. We can do better than that. We can disagree with our current Prime Minister on his policies, even lack respect for him personally, but the office of Prime Minister demands our respect, and for now, Justin Trudeau inhabits that office. He serves his country, just as Brian Mulroney did. Holding office is not for the faint of heart. In fact, it seems one needs an inflated ego to hold that office in this toxic climate we have created, which is a real shame. An election is looming and we all have some soul searching to do regarding what we want our leaders in Canada to be and not to be. That really is the question.

I love my vast mosaic of a country. I love Canadians for our self-deprecating humour, our official bilingualism, our concern for others globally and at home, and our devotion to both education and democracy. We only have to look south of the border - where the two options for leader are an 81 year old who should be living out his retirement in peace and tranquility, and a megalomaniac who, on one hand threatens violence if he loses the election, and on the other, sells Nationalistic Bibles to try to pay off his huge legal fines - to see what not to do. As Robin Williams said, "Canada is like a really nice apartment over a meth lab." We need to do everything in our power not to get sucked into dealing that meth here. 

'Til next time, 

Rebecca

Musings on Modern Mid-Life Friendship

I  have someone I call 'friend' with whom the entire dialogue between us consists of sending each other memes, funny or sweeet videos, and the occasional tidbit of personal information. We have seen each other briefly, and only once, since high school when she turned up at my workplace with her kids. I didn't even know her that well in high school, but she found me on Instagram a few years ago and we struck up a friendship of sorts, mainly based on making each other laugh. She's very smart (science and math smart, unlike me), adventurous (I'm not really), and very glamorous (don't laugh). I have let her lead our relationship and so far it has been a fun nearly daily check-in that makes me smile in surprise and delight. I mean, if you'd known the two of us in high school you might say, "Who knew?"

My relationship with my internet friend is contrasted with the ones I have with my childhood friends. I have known Toni and Rachel since we were six. Our relationship consists of talking on the phone about once every six months, yearly visits if we're lucky, but we always sink into our usual conversation and laughter like its a comfortable old sofa. I love them very much and they remind me of who I used to be. Maybe I remind them, too. We had a larger circle in school, and I still consider those others women friends, but we only seem to communicate through commenting on each others posts on Facebook. I have a feeling if we saw each other again, we would still find something to talk about. They are all such smart, accomplished women, but none of us live near each other anymore. Some relationships persist into adulthood and middle age, and some fade a bit from sheer geography. 

Then, there are the friends I made in adulthood, mainly through college and university, motherhood, working, and volunteering situations. Not all of those friendships remained as steady. I am always happy to see any of these friends, but perhaps there isn't enough in common anymore to sustain an active friendship. That's how it goes, doesn't it? There's nothing wrong with that, really. Sometimes friendships make the most sense during a specific phase of life - perhaps our children played together  when they were little, and drifted apart as teens. We did move a few times as well. I am so grateful for the women in the above category with whom I have maintained active friendships. We were/are present for each other when our kids were growing up, when we lost parents, and when we have dealt with health issues. I am grateful for Facebook, which allows me to keep up with the lives of other friends I would otherwise have mainly lost touch with. 

There was a time fairly recently when I thought I would never make another friend, that I had gathered to my heart all the people I ever would. Part of the reason for such a sad feeling was due to my major burnout of five or so years ago, and my turning into something of a hermit. I honestly felt awkward around new people, which was a new and odd sensation for me. Slowly, however, little fledgling friendships began to form with people in my current city as I got our more. While not fully flown yet, these friendships are worth encouraging, so I try to put in the work. Making new friends in middle age is not the easiest. People are often set in their routines, are busy with family, aging parents, and work. But, it is possible if you are open to it and not too demanding of others' time, I find.

The last category of friendship I am blessed to write about is the kind I have with my siblings. We understand each other deeply, because we grew up together in the same house with the same parents. We went through stuff we don't talk about with anyone else. Most of us (and that includes our various partners) have only grown closer over the years as we plow into middle age and beyond. I am the youngest, so I have the most to be grateful for when it comes to love and support from my older siblings. They paved the way, and I benefitted so much from their work. I treasure them more every year.

A huge thank you to my kaleidoscope of friends, no matter what our individual relationships consist of. If you send me a meme now and then, thank you! You thought of me. If you call, thank you! I have missed our conversations. If you visit, thank you! I love talking, laughing, and walking with you. I strive to be a good friend, too.

Until next time, 

Rebecca

P.S. And to my husband: I hope it goes without saying that you are my best friend. I love laughing and solving the world's problems with you. 

The Case of the Missing Sunglasses

Since we are still within the Twelve Days of Christmas I feel like it's okay to tell a funny little Christmas story. 

A couple of weeks before Christmas I misplaced my magnetic clip-on sunglasses. I say 'misplaced' rather than 'lost' because the times I thought I lost them I have always found them, usually in an odd place. My clip-ons aren't the kind you buy at Walmart or Shoppers Drug Mart. They are specifically made for my glasses' frames and are one of the reasons I choose the brand of glasses I do. They are the only sunglasses I wear, and I especially need them up at the resort on bluebird days when the snow is blindingly white. I looked everywhere for my sunglasses but had no luck. My husband told me to order another pair from the eye doctor's; even if the originals turned up he thought a second pair would be useful to have. I didn't like spending the seventy dollars, but I didn't have much of a choice at that point. I suppose I could have walked around with my ski goggles on if worse came to worst.

I was already at the resort where my family was to spend Christmas when the eye doctor place called me to say my order was in. I told them I would pick it up the next week and hoped for cloudy-ish skies. I lucked out. The weather was perfect - just enough cloud to keep the sun from blinding me, but still lovely and conducive to many winter rambles in the woods. 

My kids arrived and our five day party started. Morning visits over coffee and lingering breakfasts, lunch with their dad on his break, then afternoons spent doing our own thing, either in pairs, or alone. We fueled our activities with the cookies I had made and soon started in on the pan of my husband's homemade and very delicious Nanaimo bars. Christmas morning arrived. My husband had to make his rounds first thing, so the rest of us opened our stockings and started making brunch. We would open our gifts after my husband returned and we had all eaten. 

Our bacon and eggs, mimosas, and panettone enjoyed, we gathered near the Christmas tree to open our gifts. We took turns passing out our gifts and watched each other open them. When it was my turn I handed my husband a box which contained a new pair of slippers. He's been having some trouble with his right heel and I thought some slippers with cushy memory foam would be a welcome replacement for his old ones. My husband tore the wrapping paper off and un-taped the old shoe box I had used. He lifted out the slippers and made an appropriately appreciative noise. I remember my eyes were cast down when he said, "Um, Rebecca?" I looked up. He was holding my sunglasses. In the whirlwind of acquiring, organizing, and wrapping gifts I must have dropped them into the slippers. I laughed. We all laughed. "It's a Christmas miracle!" I said. 

You see? I had only misplaced my sunglasses, and true to form, they showed up in the oddest of places. 

Happy New Year!

'til next time, 

Rebecca