Author: Amstutz Journal

My Dance with Grief

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My life has been a dance with emotion: Love, sadness, joy, heartbreak and everything in between. I live a quiet life. Where once I was planning meals for a family of 5, raising children, driving them to school, sports events, music lessons, school productions, and more all while working my own full time job, I now pull out a frozen dinner and sit alone at my kitchen table. I run my own schedule and live out a new life plot that I had never imagined I would ever face.

What happened?

My husband of almost 40 years made his transition to heaven at the young age of 60. He suffered a heart attack. My son of 38 years made his transition 1 year later on Boxing Day (Dec. 26), 2023 from a heart attack.

Am I okay? I have to be. I choose to be. What are my options?

I have had moments of emotional strength when I was determined that I would not be defined by my grief. And I have had moments where my grief completely debilitated me.

Someone once asked the question “How do difficult circumstances change you?” I ask how have I allowed myself to be changed? An answer does not come easily like it would if someone asked me what is 2 + 2. Who am I I now? Who was I before?

Who was I?

I enjoyed my life with true reckless abandon. My story was full of adventure and excitement. My emotions guided me. If I was happy, I would act happy. If I was sad, I would find a corner somewhere where I could be alone but I was subject to my emotions.

Who am I now?

I am greater than my emoiions as I realize that I do not want to spend the rest of my life in that dark corner alone focused on what I have lost.

What do I have?

I have life. I feel the fullness of a satisfying deep breath and a conscious determination to be happy despite my past experiences. That is easier said than done. Loosing the ever present joy of loved ones can totally destroy a person. I will admit I have felt the close proximity of wondering what it would be like to just step out of this human existence simply to stop the emotional pain. But I am still here. I would equate ducking out on life when it feels unbearable to walking out of a test before it has been completed because it is just too hard. I’ve had a lifetime full of amazing blessings and now as I find myself in the middle of one of life’s toughest exams, I am determined to pass.

The test of Grief

I know the answers to these questions. They come to me as I face each moment. How do I keep going when I just want to die? Keep breathing Lori. Just keep breathing. Then the mind steps in. My reality plays out before me like a 3D movie in a room that has no exits. Harold can no longer be heard making coffee in the morning. Sean can no longer be heard playing the piano. Nobody hears me when I walk through the door after work to say “Hi! I’m home!” Ok. Breathing. I can do that. Mute the thoughts of the mind Lori, like you do during commercials on TV. You won’t miss anything. Sound muted. Here is where the controlled thoughts step up to the mic.

Go to a place that you define as beautiful. Another deep breath and I picture a waterfall framed with trees just before plummeting down a rocky cliff to a pool below. I picture birds enjoying the spray as they fly through the mist it creates, and I smell the fresh air. I see a blue sky and feel the warm sun on my face. This is a scene that I experienced with Harold on a trip to Kauai. It is easy to recall many moments of beauty that I can bring back into my present moment. Harold looked so handsome and we shared that same spirit of adventure.

Back to my present moment. I find myself absent mindedly smiling while I breathe just holding that memory as long as I desire. Something has shifted inside of me. My past holds all the beautiful decorations of my present, each experience becoming a treasured souvenir of my life.

But Sean…

Same process. Debilitating grief flows through me again. Just breathe. My happy place: I am lying in a hospital bed with Harold standing next to me as I hold baby Sean in my arms for the first time. Our son, born at 00:46 in the morning, weighing exactly 7 pounds. That moment from the past and so many more have become happy places to help me find my feet again.

Back to the present

Grief can be compared to the waves of the ocean. Sometimes you experience a tsunami of grief. Other times the tide is out and you can enjoy beach combing in the tidal pools left behind. Yes, sorrow overtakes us. That is part of this whole life and death scenario, but when the tide goes out, you can remember all those beautiful moments that can never be taken away: the memories, the laughter and the joy of just being together. Sharing life and all its magic is the greatest gift.

Is death a payment for love? We all die. Back to the classroom scenario, writing the test of life and death. What has life with Harold and Sean taught me? What does life with Tammy, Kenton and Barrett continue to teach me? (My other children and my grandson). This is my answer: Perhaps it is payment, but I can not imagine my life without them. Love incarnate is absolutely worth it.

I still stand in time. Why am I still here? My mother often asked me that question as she grieved my father who passed almost exactly 12 years before her own journey to heaven. My answer to her has become my own mantra. I still have a purpose for being here. My purpose is to live for this moment, this NOW. My purpose is to keep loving. I can do that.

As Harold and Sean watch from that heavenly dimension, they wait for us all to find our feet again. I believe they are both by my side as I grieve their physical loss, but I also believe that they cheer us on every time we come to the end of another grief tsunami, or even a sneaker wave that catches us off guard. My grief comes as an equivalent marker of my love for them.

“All the world is a stage and all the men and women merely players.” Shakespeare. My backstage crew is strong, as is my own cast that still shares my stage of life. I will complete this test. I’m still writing it, but I have every intention of finishing this exam of life.

What is time anyway?

I believe time is the veil that separates me from Harold and Sean and all our loved ones who have finished their earthly stories. I am immersed in time, but our loved ones are no longer governed by the clock. I believe I am dreaming this life, but soon I will wake up and find myself in that beautiful dimension outside of time and space where Harold and Sean wait for me – (a time reference). For now, I live by its rules but I have adopted a new perspective of life and death. How have I changed over the last few years? I am no longer who I was. I am experiencing life in the moment. It is the only way that works for me as I do my daily dance with grief.

My Perspective

Life is the dream. The afterlife is the reality. Lucid dream this life. Know that all my days are numbered, but still full of purpose nonetheless. My purpose is to know joy again, to breathe, smile as it feels natural and let life happen for me, not to me. I am not a victim. I am a survivor and I have my own story to continue writing.

The Song

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The quintet is now a trio. This is their story.

Once there was one musician. On her own, the musician made beautiful music. Then she met another who also made beautiful music.

The two then merged their songs.

They were fruitful and multiplied.

Then they were 5.

The music they made all together was magnificent. The harmonies were heavenly. People danced to their music.

The music was a symphony with many movements. Some were fast, some were slow. Some were in a minor key which made the listeners cry.  Then the music would change again and the people would dance and sing along.  Each movement created beauty for all the world to enjoy.

Then a voice dropped out. A lead musician had left the quintet. The other musicians were shocked and confused, but still there was music in their hearts.

The Quartet continued the song.  Its melodious phrases, its cadenzas, its dynamics once again built up to a spontaneous creation of glorious song, even though the lead singer was gone. 

The quartet carried on.

But It was not long until another voice was gone. Another player had left the stage. Another player in this creation of love had stepped out of the ranks.

Bewildered and even more confused than when the first musician left, the remaining three musicians were silenced.

There was a pause.  In the pause, life around them carried the music. The sound of the wind in the trees, the sound of the birds carrying a chorus. A pause. A reflection. There is still beautiful music to be written.

The influence of the two musicians that once created with the trio had been very strong and the trio’s desire to continue the music grew so that the song which could not be silenced began again.

Ever so faintly at first, the trio started to sing.  First with a minor dirge which gave people pause as they listened. The listeners cried.  But the dirge was only a bridge to the magnificence that was to come.

Love never dies.

Music goes on.

Sing.  Sing your song. 

Remembering Harold

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If one were to step outside today not knowing the date, it would be easy to assume it is early spring or late fall with the cool temperatures and the strong wind. My thoughts go to my late husband Harold and I chuckle as I remember how frustrated he would get with these cold days in June.  It’s been just over 6 months since he transitioned to heaven, however, as I sit alone at my computer this morning, my heart is warmed with all the wonderful memories I have of our lives together.  We two had definitely become 1 through our years.  The plans we made and carried out, the children we had and the places we lived have left me with a wonderful story of 2 people who co-created together for almost 40 years.

We were drawn to each other in those early years by our love of life, our spirit of adventure, and our desire to be together as much as we could. 

Our story is not big financially, but somehow we managed to create some of the most amazing experiences together.  The first one that comes to mind is from Ireland back in May of 2012. We were there for a week. Towards the end of our visit, we found a perfect little B&B in the town of Wexford. We spent the day exploring this colorful town and then ended our day in a charming little pub. It was such a find! That place had more atmosphere than its walls could contain.  The music and laughter, the people, the warmth of the whole evening still sits with me as if it just happened yesterday.  Stumbling back to our B&B after the pub closed at 2 am ended one of the most magical days of our experience together in Ireland.  That is just one amazing story of so many.  The beauty of Ireland was the perfect backdrop to our amazing Irish adventure, but that was only 1 trip.  The warm air of Ecuador, the tropical breezes of Hawaii and the Grenadines, the lush green rolling hills of the Czech Republic and even the streets of San Francisco all combined to create a beautiful picture of 2 people who loved to travel and enjoyed life to the fullest.

These memories bring me to a place of gratefulness and appreciation as I recall all that we did through mental pictures.  Harold had a huge spirit for living that stayed with him through all his years.  His epiphanies always meant that another great adventure was about to begin.  From our fully equipped piano workshop in Airdrie to a 2nd floor apartment in India, he was unstoppable.  His visions were huge as they became reality for both of us to share. 

I could take this writing in so many directions right now, but my heart is served the most as I reflect on Harold’s magnificent spirit and outlook on life.  There is a dark side to all of us which sometimes guides our choices, and both of us experienced life in its full duality.  I acknowledge that with a simple sentence, and then move right back to all that brought me joy through our years together. 

Coffee.  Because of his love for a cup of black coffee, I also learned to appreciate my coffee black.  That is a simple representation of my adoration for the way Harold enjoyed life.  I was a follower through many of our years together, but I was also a co-creator acknowledging that together we wrote our story.  For example, when my father offered us air miles to take a vacation anywhere in the world, I chose Ireland.  It was not a place Harold would have picked and it turned out to be a fun adventure in a new land.  6 years later Harold wanted to sell everything and go see India.  That was not a decision I would have made, but together it also turned out to be a fun and amazing adventure.

This is far more than a tipping of my hat to a wonderful life. It is me bowing in deep admiration of a man who fought to live out his dreams right to the very end.  Eventually his MS  confined him to a wheelchair, but his mind still soared with new ideas to experience life to its fullest.  He taught me so much.  He taught me love. He taught me patience; he taught me understanding.  Sadly some of these lessons came too late for me but the truth remains that they are lessons I’ve learned. I go forward with him in spirit now as I walk through my home and recall so many moments we shared based on things I see as I look around: the piano he refurbished for us, the china cabinet we chose together as we shopped at Becker Furniture World, the table that holds my computer is one that he re-finished for us to use. In my storage room there is a box of computer keyboards.  Not 1 or 2, but several!  I don’t know why he accumulated so many but now I look at that collection and laugh. The wooden cane with the gold handle lies next to his picture in my office.

A cane, a walker and then a wheelchair. None of these items and what they represent kept him from dreaming. I’m thankful for his freedom from a body that was failing him. I’m thankful for his release from pain. We shared so much together and I cherish every moment as I look back.

I love you Harold.  Now and forever. Until we meet again my love.

Lori

Finding my Way Home

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When I last wrote, my surroundings were quite different. I was residing in the mountains of Southern India in the middle of paradise. Let me describe that a little more if you have not read my last blog. Setting: a 140 year old Stone-built duplex style dwelling in a garden that was several acres large surrounded by tropical foliage. Wild rose bushes, Aloe Vera plants and huge hydrangea bushes were everywhere. The garden was often visited by wild bison, wild pigs and wild dogs. Dirt pathways wound through a magical garden that offered me the most stress-free environment that I have ever known. Days and nights were split almost exactly with 12 hours light and 12 hours dark give-or-take 30 minutes or so. My neighbour and landlord lived next door and completed the magical picture that I called home for just over 2 months. Covid19 had just set in and the country was going into lockdown behind me. Once I was settled in, there was no way home that was easily available. My return trip tickets would soon be cancelled and all I would be able to do would be to wait and see how the pandemic of 2020 would play out.

That is where my last blog ended. My 2-month stay was actually enhanced by the lockdowns as what was once an over-crowded and always busy tourist hotspot for India turned suddenly quiet. No more honking horns, no more partying tourists, just the sounds of nature. For the time that I was there during the pandemic, I can easily describe my stay as “Heaven”.

How can anyone leave heaven?

As beautiful as Kodaikanal was, my heart longed for home in Calgary where my children and grandson were. Being away from them with no available plans to return was my only stress point. Daily I would tune in to the news and watch for ways to return home. It wasn’t until about a month in that the airlines actually cancelled my return flights. From the beginning it looked inevitable, but once that happened, I began to feel a little panicky. It was then that I connected with the Canadian Consulate up in Delhi. Just having them know that I was there gave me great peace of mind. They were sending out weekly and sometimes daily updates on how they were helping stranded Canadians find their way back home.

Initially, the ways that were provided by the consulate to return to Canada were financially impossible for me as they were charging twice the price of my original ticket to fly me back to Canada which of course was a 1-way trip. I could not make that work. I would have to wait. All their options were departing out of Northern India. I was not in Northern India. The closest airport to me was in Madurai in the most southern state of Tamil Nadu.

So I watched and waited for something that would work for me.

The “heads-up” notices from the consulate warned that Canadians should be ready to pack up and leave for home on very short notice. I am anything but a short-notice type of person. I need time to process and adjust my thinking and expectations so I braced myself for a sudden solution to appear that would change my life in a matter of hours.

That email came with the news of a flight to Canada via Air France through Paris departing out of Bangalore. The only way to book a seat on that flight was to book directly to a Canadian airport that they would be flying to, and then book a Domestic flight to Calgary from there. That’s when my adventure to get home began. I was going to Montreal through Paris! Seriously exciting! I’ve never been to either of those places. The price for the ticket had fallen within my budgeted amount so I was able to purchase a ticket that would return me to Canada that would get me home only 1 week later than my initial ticket.

Catches

My flight was to leave out of Bangalore which was an 8 to 10 hour drive from where I was staying. (Added expense to my journey). Landing in Montreal left me with the need to book a separate flight itinerary to Calgary. (Added expense to my journey).

All ended well for me, and it left me with an amazing experience to share about what it was like to travel internationally at a time when the whole world was shutting down.

Read on . . .

Road trip! Who in Kodai would I want to do an extended trip with to get me to Bangalore? I’ve introduced you to my favorite taxi driver – Solomon – in a former blog. My choice was easy. He drove a very nice vehicle that had air conditioning and would safely get me to my destination. But before even leaving town, I needed the help of the Consulate. All my trip details had to be provided in a government issued document to allow me to travel to the next state, Karnataka, to get to the Bangalore airport. I needed my passport (of course) and proof of the reason for travelling. It took Solomon and myself a couple days to gather up all the documents that would be required on our trip. I owe a huge thank you to the consulate as they were available to me every step of the way to help me acquire all necessary paperwork to get home. Go Canada! I love my country even more now than ever.

After the long journey to Bangalore, we arrived at the international airport to an eerie scene. The airport there is huge but the only other people around were those who were also booked on the Air France flight to Paris. Access to the terminal was limited to 3 hours prior to departure. All the tourist kiosks were closed except for 1 or 2. Thank goodness that one of those sold coffee. It made my wait much more tolerable after the long road trip. The Canadian consulate had arranged for a waiting area in a nearby hotel lobby. That was an amazing offer, but my own sense of urgency lead me straight to the airport to wait.

Flight to Paris

The plane was full. I do not recall even 1 empty seat. It was loud as there were many families traveling with small children. But no matter. It was an uneventful flight – the only kind you ever want!

I relished my time at the airport in Paris. Never having been there, I wanted to call everyone I knew just so I could hear myself tell them “I just landed in Paris”. It turned out to be another eerie airport scenario with virtually no one else around except for those who had just gotten off my flight from Bangalore. Next stop: Montreal Canada!

Landing in Montreal

Montreal Trudeau International Airport

Besides the fact that the airport in Montreal was almost completely deserted, it was another place I could talk about having been there now. I left French-speaking Paris to arrive in French-speaking Montreal. I don’t speak French. However the sound of the language romanced my heart and I tried to recall as much French as I could remember from my days in elementary school French class. My fear of testing my memory was validated when I greeted an airport worker with a very authentic sounding “Bonjour”. She just assumed that I spoke more than that one word and continued to converse in French. Busted! I was immediately over my head as I had no clue what she was saying. I remember grinning sheepishly as I confessed that I spoke only English. I loved the scenario that played out in my imagination picturing me in an extensive bonding style conversation in a language other than English. But back to reality, she smiled and switched immediately and seamlessly to words that I could understand.

My Domestic Flights

it was 2 very long flights that finally returned me to Canadian soil. I had not been able to get a decent rest in the last 36 hours. My flight to Calgary through Toronto did not depart until the following morning after landing in Montreal. I had booked a hotel for the night that provided free airport shuttle and catered to travelers who were passing through. The hotel in Montreal was a welcome stop that gave me the chance to get a decent sleep before 2 more very short flights to home. All this stays in my memory because of the lack of people. It was so abnormal to be in these international destinations only to be part of a very small crowd of travelers.

Home

Calgary in Spring. It is a wonderful time of the year for every Calgarian as the long grip of winter looses its hold on life, finally allowing spring to emerge. It’s like Narnia when Christmas finally comes and the ice begins to melt. Trees begin to grow again and the birds all seem to come back. I was home. My son Kenton was at the airport to greet me. I only realized how much I love it here when it looked like my return was in jeopardy. I did leave a heavenly setting behind, but heaven has taken on a new form for me now every time I am able to spend a few moments with my children.

Christmas is approaching quickly and spring seems like a long way off. But cold and snow are not enough to separate family. Not like living 12,000 kilometers away on the other side of the world. Negative temperatures throw up temporary obstacles, but somehow I find them easier to deal with than I have in the past. Covid19 is also a factor, but as the pandemic has worsened since I returned in May, I am even more thankful to be back with family.

I am overwhelmed with a feeling of gratitude towards the Canadian Consulate in Delhi as I recall my journey. They were so helpful and encouraging throughout every step of the way for me. They were understanding an seemed to bend over backwards to make sure that I could find my way back home to Calgary. They connected with me through phone calls, texts and emails regularly to let me know that they were there for me should I encounter any issues along the way.

A Heart Divided

Prior to the experience of my 2020 Journey to India, i was not sure what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. This whole issue has brought peace to my heart as I quickly approach my retirement years. It was all amazing for me, but now I finally feel settled. I have landed where I want to be. Kodaikanal will forever have a special place in my heart but I am a mother and now a recent Grandmother. It’s time for me to settle down and invest in the most amazing part of my life, my family.

Stranded in India

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It has been about a week now since I received word via email that my flight home in May had been cancelled. When I arrived here in March I knew I was gambling with my return ticket knowing that it may or may not be valid. Who could know how long this worldwide shutdown would last? 2 months seemed like a long way off. I was sure that it would be no problem getting home again, but things have not played out in my favour in that regard.

The news hit me harder than I thought it would. You know that unexpected emotion that sneaks up on you from out of nowhere? I didn’t see it coming but I was more bothered by this news than I thought. My reality changed with that 1 email and my adventure has taken a new turn.

Looking Back

The time has flown by since I landed and looking back at my weeks, I have done nothing of significance at all. But I guess these days just staying healthy counts. I only had 4 or 5 days to enjoy Kodai before it all locked down. Initially there was a sense of panic in the air at the grocery stores as people shopped with the uncertainty of not knowing when they would be able to shop again. But this is an amazing town. There was no hoarding of food and supplies. Grocery stores have remained open but on a limited schedule and shelves continue to be stocked. The regular Sunday Market has been cancelled and the foot traffic around town is a fraction of what it used to be. Taxi stands are closed, the bus station is shut down and the town has reverted back to what it must have been like here 50+ years ago.

To date I have not heard of any Corona virus cases here making this feel like the safest place to be in the world right now.

The Lockdown and the Wildlife

Staying home here has generated some unexpected moments to share. The lack of tourists has affected the local wildlife. By that I am referring to the bison, the cows (although technically not wildlife), the monkeys and the dogs. They are the most noticeable.

The Bison and The Cows

It is difficult to observe the affect on the bison. You really do not want to get close enough to them to determine how they are feeling, but the cows seem happier. I base my thinking on how I feel when I walk the streets here with them. I am not missing the loud and smelly traffic. The horns which sounded almost constantly at every pitch, playing every diddle you can imagine are wonderfully gone! I found them annoying and do not miss them so I am assuming the cows feel the same.

The Monkeys

These cheeky little primates are getting bold. I believe they used to enjoy taunting tourists and looking for handouts. I also firmly believe that they understand the words “Oh Look! It’s a monkey! Get the Camera! Do we have any bananas we can give them?” If they do not hear those words, they go for more aggressive tactics. I enjoy hearing about their “just go for the food” approach. The monkey motto must be “if you see it, grab it”. However with all the shops closed and the tourists gone, there is not much to see or grab. They have developed a new tactic of “if the people won’t come to us, we will go to the people”. This was my personal experience last week as I had 2 of them visit me.

My problem started with the simple fact that I usually leave both my front and back doors open so I can enjoy the fresh air. I was standing at my kitchen sink doing dishes when I heard a sound from the dining room. It sounded like someone had bumped into the dining room table. I assumed it was probably my neighbour or the gardener that had come to talk to me. I called out “hello” without stopping what I was doing. When I got no answer, I looked over my shoulder to see a rather large monkey squatting on his haunches in my kitchen doorway looking up at me. He was maybe 2 feet tall. He must have been able to smell the 3 over ripe bananas I had sitting on my counter. I was so startled that without taking my hands out of the dishwater I lunged towards him and yelled at him to try and scare him away. He did nothing, did not even twitch a muscle. He just continued to stare at me with his beady little eyes. Besides the bananas, he was looking for fear. He found none in me. Only surprise. By chance I had been washing a paring knife with a 4” blade. Without thinking I turned and lunged at him again, this time pointing the knife at him as it was still dripping with soapy dishwater. I took a step forward. He got the message that he was not welcome and turned to leave. As I followed him around the corner into the living room while yelling at him and still pointing the knife at him I saw his accomplice. They were working in pairs! I chased them both out the front door. Once they were gone and I had time to process what had just happened I began to shake. Mostly with excited adrenaline. I looked down at the knife in my hand and started to laugh realizing that that could have gone very badly. They possess both attitude and thumbs! But all was well. They were gone. Since that day I do not leave the doors or windows open when I am not around. I don’t feel sorry for them. They have the ability to climb trees and go get their own bananas.

The Dogs

I am such a dog person but I am guarding my heart and trying not to make eye contact with them. I see them roaming around town or occasionally walking through the garden. To me they all look like they need food and love. They are all both skinny and very skiddish. But I am in no position to have any of them dependent on me. I have had to turn off my emotions for them. (See previous blog about Buddy.)

The Rest of my Time

So what am I doing with all my time? My schedule has been filled with tea breaks, the occasional trip into town for essentials while wearing a mask of course, or roaming around my house from room to room looking for things that need my attention. A rumpled scatter mat or a pillow that needs fluffing are strangely satisfying things to do.

Every day I am able to enjoy strolling through the garden. I’m always overwhelmed by the variety of beautiful flowers growing here. I also enjoy just closing my eyes and listening to the sounds around me: crickets, birds and the distant barking of dogs. Seasonal rains seem to be steady these days. Mornings are always sunny and warm and afternoons are often rainy and warm.

I think my biggest daily challenge is to keep a cool head as I deal with the reality that I have no way to get home right now. I watch the news every day looking for an opportunity to schedule a trip home. My perspective on my situation will dictate my attitude. I am not “stuck” here. I am safely riding out the pandemic in a beautiful old home in a lush green garden. – – – Just breathe. – – – I wonder if Amazon sells ruby slippers. Hey kids and Barrett. I miss you all terribly but I will see you soon!

Quarantined in India

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My confinement continues.  I try to stretch out my daily tasks.  Where I once hopped out of bed in a rush to prepare for my busy day, I have now taken a much more leisurely approach.  With not only myself, but the entire world in self-isolation there is really not much outside of my home and garden that I can do.  

I do not believe that it is by chance that I find myself here in the southern mountains of India during this pandemic. Apparently I made it here under the wire. Shortly after my arrival to India, the borders closed to tourists and all non-essential travel plans. As the corona virus spreads, people are hunkering down and staying indoors whenever possible.

Kodai, which is usually a loud and bustling tourist destination, is quiet. There is no traffic in the streets, no people walking into town, no shops are open. It is a Kodaikanal that I have never experienced before. It has become my paradise, or my prison depending on my perspective. I choose the latter. The music from my iPad is filling the air from my front porch with the sounds of the Canadian Brass and they are accompanied by the most wonderful symphony of bird songs. There are no dogs barking, no car horns, no people yelling. This has become the most peaceful and relaxing setting in which I have ever found myself. A prison? No. It feels like I was gently escorted halfway around the world on the wings of angels and placed amongst the most beautiful collection of trees, flowers and birds. The garden that I find myself in is truly amazing.

My temporary home has a story to tell all in itself.  It is a 140 year old British built stone home.  I have sacrificed some western luxuries but find it difficult to complain.  I have truly landed in the Garden of Eden.  Keeping that perspective will be my daily mental challenge.

It was the call of friends that brought me back to India for the fifth time in 4 years.  Although I do love Calgary in the summertime, enduring through those Long, cold winters does not do much to keep me at home.  So here I am again. Drinking in the warm sun and listening to the sounds of nature all around me.  If I could identify all the plants that I see while sitting on my front porch, it would be easier to convey to you more accurately the beauty of my current setting.  That may be a task I should take up depending on the length of my confinement/quarantine/isolation.  

I shall continue to try and define my purpose in being here as the days roll on.  I’ve lost track of the time.  Hours, days, weeks. They all run together into one and can only be described as existence.  My daily purpose will be to see what I can do to restore the beauty of a garden around me that needs tending.  I’m on the brink of an adventure.  It will be exciting to see how the weeks unfold ahead of me.

Back to my initial thought.  I believe this is day . . . 3?

Lori Who?

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How time continues to fly and how much change happens in such short periods of time. It would seem that my travels are on hold for awhile. I now find myself enjoying a quiet existence in my small and simple apartment here in Calgary. The winter weather has been a tough mental issue for me to deal with. Physically you just bundle up and layer according to the forecast, but mentally is where the difficulty lies. For the last 2 winters I have been fortunate enough to wait out the Calgary cold in the beautiful southern mountains of India. I did not think that I would be so lucky to do that every winter but I am finding that the pleasure of the company of friends and family here is warmer than the coldest winter days. (Awe. Soft fuzzy moment.) ❤ ❤

What now? I am committing my energies to breathing new life into my piano tuning business again. I considered other ways to pay the bills, but somehow I just keep coming back to the tuning avenue.

Staying put here in town has many benefits. I have invested in a silent mute for my trumpet. It was an AWESOME investment as it came with ear buds and the capability for me to practice anytime, day or night, without disturbing anyone. There is something therapeutic in playing again. The last time I played was for my father’s funeral in 2012. A piece of me died with him and I just could not bring myself to even consider playing again. But with the discovery of this digital silencer mute and the encouragement of my children, music is coming back into my life. Watch for a YouTube channel.

Quick updates are good! Stay tuned and I will keep posting.

MUCH LOVE!

Thoughts on Winter in Canada

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It’s here again. Another winter is strong in play and all living beings must bow to its whimsical changes of mind. Blizzards, Chinooks, melting, freezing, snowing, sleeting. We are all victims to its ever changing and rarely pleasant mood. AND it comes with the added bonus of long hours of darkness peppered with a few hours of sunlight. Get some sunshine while you can, if you can! The sun is wonderful, but do not be deceived. It has little bearing on the temperatures that can only be felt once you step outside. We fight the cold temperatures daily. Thermostats get hiked up in an effort to duplicate a spring day indoors. Wood gets stocked up and restocked next to the fireplace if you have one. Or if you are fortunate enough to have a gas fireplace controlled by the simple flip of a switch, it gets flipped.


People seem to either love or hate winter. There is no real middle ground on this. I used to enjoy winter in my younger days and I would embrace all the outdoor winter sports that I could. Skiing and skating were at the top of the list. The added celebration of lights in the middle of the coldest months of the year, AKA Christmas, was an exciting event that came wrapped up in
the long, dark, cold months as if it were a seasonal gift itself to all those who enjoyed the cold months.


As children, I was #4 of 5, my sister and I could hardly wait until the end of each school day so we could put on our skates and walk – yes – while wearing our skates – to the rink at the end of the block. We would skate on a small neighborhood rink forgetting everything else in the world. We
would stay until after dark or until our toes were so cold that we could no longer feel them. We mastered many fancy moves on blades that had dulled with the journey of walking to and from the rink on them as if they were our winter boots.

As we grew older, skiing became a thing for us. How could it not? We lived in the foothills of the Rockies and it was only a 90 minute drive to some world famous ski resorts. $20 would cover both the equipment rentals and the lift ticket. I still fondly remember careening down the mountain on the edge of control enjoying runs that took us half a morning to complete only once! Cautious skiing? Where was the fun in that? How do you find your limits if you don’t push yourself? I admit that pushing myself sometimes looked more like I belonged on a tobogganing hill than a ski run, but that’s how I found my limits. Moguls, jumps, varying degrees of steepness of a run, these were all thrilling factors. Just recalling those adventures compels me want to make them happen again. After all, I’m not dead yet.


Hot Chocolate and Christmas are two defining things of winter. Through the years the Christmas celebration took on different faces as we started our family and grew with them celebrating in age appropriate ways. Towards the end of their years with us, we would forego the presents under the tree and head for the mountains on Christmas Day. Awesome times.

Years have passed. I am now a Grandma and all my children are forming their own celebrations. So what is left if the events of the season no longer happen, and family members prepare for the stress of planning meals and shopping for the other people in their lives? I am tempted to go on a rabbit trail here but a blog about how to handle the Christmas season could
be an entire subject of its own. Right now I am trying to deal with how to make it through winter without loosing my mind.

I really need to be my own best friend through these months. To write my own prescription for winter survival, I need to make it a habit to get outside every day if possible. My tendency is to hunker down indoors and try to pretend that it’s not mid-winter. But mind tricks are not a solution. I must
love the season! Grab my self by the collar and demand enjoyment, banishing a bad attitude. Remember the words of Thumper? (You know – Bambi and Thumper?). “If it weren’t for December, none of us would really appreciate May”. What are the positives things going on in my life right now? There are many (again – another whole blog unto itself). Look beyond the season and embrace the whole picture. Life is really a gift. Each day that I am able to put my feet on the floor and walk to the kitchen for that first cup of coffee, I need to be grateful. My home has a fireplace, so that’s wonderful, but I can’t let myself get bogged down with the little things. The big thing is the gift to live and choose to enjoy every day no matter what is
going on outside. Unless of course you are stuck outside, but again, another blog.

I’ve talked myself out of a slump. The setting of my neighbourhood Starbucks with soft comfy couches and delicious coffee is my current pleasure. Who knows what tomorrow will bring but for today, life is good. If you are currently under a dark wintry cloud that may turn into a blizzard at any time, grab a scarf and hat, force yourself outside, look into the wind and feel the snow!

Our 2-year Adventure in India

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It’s been over a year since my last blog. That’s bad.  While I can still remember some of the highlights, the basics, the main bullet points, I’ve compiled them in this blog as an overview of our entire experience.  I definitely mean “overview”.  It’s the skeleton of our comings and goings for which I can add meat to in time.

It seems like another world now that I am back home in Canada again. Our Indian adventure started 2 years ago this summer when we decided to sell everything and go see India. I never dreamed that it would come to feel so much like home to me.

Our decision to go was hatched out of the reality that both Harold and I are facing physical issues that will eventually claim his mobility and my vision. A year prior to our decision to go to India, we had attempted to secure employment in the U.S. but had to return home due to immigration issues.  Starting up the piano tuning business that we had shut down to go south proved to be more difficult than we had anticipated so rather than waste any more time trying to re-start life in Canada, we decided to pull the plug on everything we had known and go.  It was an all-or-nothing decision.  Our lease was up in 2 months time so rather than sign again, we used those 2 months to sell almost everything we had, and put the rest in storage. In August of 2017 we left to see India.

Our plans were to stay there for our foreseeable future. We boarded the airplane that would begin our journey halfway around the world with only 1 suitcase and 1 carry-on piece of luggage each. Upon our arrival there we had booked accommodations for only 4 nights.  We had done research that pointed out the issues we might face if we tried to book anything online too far ahead of time, so we went for the short-term accommodations plan. We would figure out more long-term housing once we got there. We held 1-year tourist visas, so we had lots of time to hunt down a place to stay once our 4 days were up.

Kodaikanal, Tamil Nadu

Our only connection to India before we left Canada was an email conversation with the Alumni Director at Kodai International School, Yvonne.  Having a family history at the school through Harold’s Mom and Dad was our motivation to go check out Kodaikanal, Harold’s place of birth.   Yvonne was very helpful.  Before we had even left, she had arranged our taxi transportation from the airport in Madurai up to Kodaikanal.

Our Journey

We knew nothing of what we would face physically as we traveled.  Our itinerary was a long multi-stop trek.  From Calgary we flew to Amsterdam with a short layover there.  From Amsterdam we went direct to Mumbai, 2 very long flights.  We would spend about the same amount of time jumping around and driving in India as it took us to do our first 2 long flights.  From Mumbai we traveled to Chennai, and from Chennai to Madurai.  After finally reaching Madurai, we completed the last 4-hour leg of our journey by taxi up into the mountains of Tamil Nadu. It was incredibly arduous.  Harold had traveled using his walking cane, but as we journeyed, I began to experience hip pain and ended up needing the use of his cane more than he did. I blame my week of sleeping on a hard floor after putting our bed in storage just before we left.

The taxi ride was amazing as we traveled through the plains to the foot of the mountains. The weather was so warm and the scenery was filled with palm trees, grassy fields, crazy traffic, bustling people and cows.  The sights, sounds and smells of that experience were all new to us. It was visually intoxicating.

Kodaikanal

We finally arrived at our hotel in Kodai, The Abriyami Residence. By the time we got there, I was unable to walk without the help of Harold’s cane.  Thank goodness he was able to do without it for that short distance from the taxi to the front desk and up 1 flight of stairs to our room. I have never been so happy to see a bed!  As soon as we got to our room, we both laid down and did not stir for a good 12-15 hours.

By the time I woke up all the hip pain I had developed as we journeyed had vanished and has not returned to this day.  We were both able to take in our surroundings after that good long rest.  One of the first reminders that we were no longer in Canada  were the signs on the windows and patio door of our hotel room advising us to keep them shut as monkeys are a problem and will come in if possible.

We had four days and nights to recuperate and find our next accommodations.  One of our first stops was Kodai School.  We went to introduce ourselves

IMG_2488

Dunbar Cottage

to Yvonne. It was so good to have her help in finding our next place to stay.  The hotel across from the school would be home for a short while as we waited for a school cottage to become available.  After a couple weeks we were finally able to settle into Dunbar Cottage. It was the first place that felt “homey” to us since we had left Canada. It also bought us more time to find somewhere more permanent to stay.

 

The School became our main connection and source of IMG_3196information and help.  Through them we were introduced to The Friesen’s. They would be vacating an old British stone house that they had been renting with an address that seemed to be nothing more than “Prospect House”.  That became our home through to the end of November.  It was furnished with all the basics for living. It had 2 bedrooms, 2 bathrooms, living room, dining room, each with their own fireplace, kitchen and a back deck with a breathtaking view over the valley below and across to the mountains on the other side of the valley.

Living in India

Getting around town was a challenge at first.  We were dependent on taxis and friends with cars. I did a ton of walking to become more familiar with the lay of the land. Eventually we purchased a scooter, a main form of transportation throughout India, and Harold was able to explore around town as well.

Shopping was a completely different game than what I knew from back home.  There are no big box stores over there to dominate the marketplace.  There are many individually owned businesses that supply specific things.  They are scattered throughout the town but by simply walking up and down some of the main streets you will find everything you need.  Fruit markets, vegetable markets, clothing stores, souvenir stores, restaurants and tea stands just to name a few.  Everything is available there if you know where to look.

More travels

We had planned to fly back home to Canada for 3 weeks to celebrate Christmas with family. After Christmas Prospect House would no longer be available to us, so part of our time was still occupied with finding a place to stay once we returned at the beginning of January.  This search lead us to the owner of a small home only 3 km away from where we were staying. It was in Pambarpuram, a self-contained community that we would come to know well.  This small home was not livable when we first went to see it.  The front door was accessible by navigating an overgrown sidewalk down a short but steep hill. It had been occupied previously by a free spirit who possessed quite an artistic talent. The walls inside were carpeted up to the halfway point and the space that remained up to the ceiling was his canvas.  The rest of the house was in a terrible state. It was uninhabitable due to the mess and dirt.  Harold looked beyond what I could see and got excited about developing the potential of that little house into a place we could rent and call our own for the long term.   So that’s what we did.  We were able to hire the help we needed to make it livable.  November was cleanup and renovation time. The fresh paint and new flooring alone made a huge difference. Once it was ready we purchased some basic furniture: bed, couch, washing machine, a cook-top stove, a few dishes and a TV.  Yes – no home is complete without a TV.  The before and after of this little cottage was hard to recognize.  This place went by the name of “Hope Villa”.  We were able to move in by the beginning of December and get settled just before leaving for Christmas.  We now had a place of our own to come back to on our return.

Hope Villa and 2017

We were anxious to return to our new little cottage situated at tIMG_4618he top of a terraced hillside in Pambarpuram. It offered such a different life for us. It was not difficult to leave the bustle and -30° C temperatures of Canada behind.  I don’t remember the journey being as difficult that second time around.  We had so much to look forward to this time.

Upon our return we enjoyed morning coffees just outside the only door. Our chairs faced the rising sun and we would feel the warmth of the new day as the sun rose above the hillside across the valley. We were entertained every morning by some local dogs, both wild and owned. They would play in the sunshine then flake out on the top of the hill to rest after a night of survival in the mountains.  This would be home for us until we had to return to Canada in June as our 1-year visas came to an end.

Back in Canada

After being in India for 11 months, it was good to be home again.  My dear mother gave us a place to stay for a couple weeks while we searched out a place to live again. It didn’t take long for us to find our current address. One thing I missed while being gone was having a place to call home back in Calgary. The closest thing we had to an address in Calgary was a storage unit.

Harold’s Return to India

Harold lasted in Calgary for only a few months before going back to our little cottage on the hillside.  I’m such a homebody family person.  I wasn’t ready to leave yet, and I wanted to spend Christmas in Calgary, so I did.  He returned to India for his birthday, Nov 1.  His adventure back to India took a bit of a turn from what we both expected. While I decorated my place for Christmas, he was dealing with the reality of Hope Villa being empty for 5 months with little to no attention or care.  Basically, he returned to find it no longer habitable due to lack of daily maintenance. Monsoons can be brutal on a home, and rats had found their way in to do their own bit of damage to the inside.

Our Indian Family

IMG_8470While living in Hope Villa in December, we chanced to meet Vani (pronounced “One-knee”) and her mother Mary. They lived just down the street from us and own Britto House, an accommodation that could be found on Trip Advisor. While living in Hope Villa we got to know them well.  I spent lots of time visiting with them over those next few months.  We had tea, went for walks around town, shopped and just hung out together.  Vani spent many hours with me trying to teach me Tamil. She was a great teacher. I was not so great a student. Lessons will continue once I get back there.IMG_8160

Introducing you to our Indian family is not complete without mentioning Solomon, our taxi driver.  A big part of feeling like you are at home elsewhere is meeting people who you grow to love and trust.  I could write a whole blog on its own just about Solomon. Maybe watch for that.

Back to Harold

Vani’s family own a home across the street from them called Barbara House, a IMG_7566beautiful 2 story home which is well maintained. The second floor of the house is a separate apartment. It has 2 bedrooms, 2 bathrooms, living room, dining room, kitchen, back deck and a rooftop!  Mary and Vani came to Harold’s rescue.  He was able to move into Britto House while making ar

rangements to move permanently into the 2nd floor of Barbara House.  It didn’t take too long, and he was completely re situated from Hope Villa into Barbara House. 

Winter in Calgary last year had not been too bad. It was cold, but the deep-freeze temperatures had not yet hit. I ended up joining Harold right before the cold hit Calgary at the beginning of February. He had made Barbara House home.  All our things had been moved and set up there.  Long story short – After a 3 ½ month stay there, we both returned home together in mid May.  It was difficult to say good bye.

Present Day Summary

There was a time when I had no address to call home. Life was an unhooked adventure. And now I find myself with 2 homes.  One is half a world away and the other is here in Calgary, but India has stolen a part of my heart.  I believe I may just spend the rest of my life being in one place and missing the other, and vice versa.  But really, is that such a bad thing.  The world has become for me, a much smaller place.

 

 

 

Peace

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As I sit overlooking the green lush valley on a mountainside in southern India, I think what a peaceful setting. The hills are quiet with nothing but the sound of birds and a distant flowing stream, but my heart is not at peace. Doesn’t everyone’s life journey include a search for peace? So I ask myself what is it I expect to find when my heart is at peace? The popular picture of a quiet log cabin with a flicker of light in the window while a storm rages outside has often been described as peaceful, but I reject that notion. True peace for me must include a more far reaching scope. What’s going on outside the door of that log cabin will affect my peace.

The mental picture that comes to mind for me includes family members who I hold dear enjoying life by my side. On my own I only imagine how much better things would be if they were enjoying all that I am experiencing along with me. If I have learned anything at all from our prolonged visit to the opposite side of the world, I’ve learned that the most important things in life for me are family and loved ones.