A quiet Farewell to a dear and lovely Lady

In a family as large as ours, small gatherings are a rarity, but due to an abundance of circumstances, this farewell was a small one. Our dear Aunt Pat, Catherine Buckley McAllister, passed in mid-May, but it was yesterday we gathered in her Montreal to celebrate her long and meaningful life. I am so grateful for her love, her ability to listen, and her attention to me through different stages of my life. She was a true lady, elegant and smart, strong and steady, and I am so grateful to have had such a mentor in my corner. As I contemplate the loss of yet another mother, I am reminded of how lucky I have been to have had so many powerful women to learn from and admire, always, and this Aunt is most certainly among that list.

As we are often reminded at funerals, we, family and friends, are forever woven together, each impacting another in endless ways, from the simplest of encounters; and it is often in those quiet moments that we can feel those timeless ties. This lovely lady will always remind me of the good stuff. Like beauty. And joy. And slowing down long enough to really hear and see each other. Such a wonderful teacher, and teaching, especially in the chaos of today’s world. Rest in Peace dear Aunt Pat. We will all miss you.

That’s a Wrap!

Year 29 is over, grades wrapped up, classroom straightened out, and kiddos graduated! Time to celebrate all the teachers from coast to coast, and applaud a job well-done during this extraordinarily challenging year. You & me & all the rest of us: we did it!

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flowers for the win

I have of late,—but wherefore I know not,—lost all my mirth“(Hamlet). I still blame COVID and its insidious roll into every aspect of life, but lately I’m not sure if that’s the root cause for my lack of mirth. There are days when I see one headline and I’m flattened by only six words. Those 50 Senators, that Russian despot, guns powered by young men, poverty and hunger and oppression mixed with ignorance and hopelessness while most of just want to escape to Margaritaville. This level of desperation is hard to hold on to and yet, it permeates many avenues running in and out of my view.

For this fleeting moment, I am reminded that there is another route. It is not too difficult to find, if you put down the newspaper and shut off the pundits. If you look up to the blue overheard and take that wide and wondrous expanse in. I invite you to stroll through my yard, to leave behind the world’s obscene pile of troubles for just a few minutes, and take a long look at perfection. Perhaps take this as an invitation to breath too.

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