Where Were You?

      Up early this morning, on this tenth anniversary of 911. How quickly time flies. Whether it was a complete conspiracy, as some would have us believe, or it happened as reported by the media, I am not sure. I only know this. People died that day and it did have an impact on me.
       That Tuesday morning, we were gathered, of course, for our second week of the new school year. As my grade two's were having a second-period gym class with another teacher, I slipped down to the office to check on some textbooks that I had ordered. One of the women in the office had been listening to the radio and heard that a plane had flown into one of the Twin Towers in New York City. We thought that it was some random accident and as we were standing there, she came out pale-faced, and said another plane hit the second tower. We were frantic for information. I went up to my classroom and tuned into the talk radio station. It was all over the news and conflicting reports kept coming. I went around to update other teachers and check into the office. There they were listening to other radio stations. We heard of another plane that hit the Pentagon and then another that went down in a field. At one point we were informed of a fifth plane, but that turned out to be false. At that moment, it felt like the end of the world had begun. Seemed that there was to be war starting on North American soil.
       A call came through soon after that from a parent of one of my students. I could hear the controlled desperation in her voice, as she said she was calling from New York, didn't know when she would be able to call again. She was on a business trip there and was on the fly trying to get out of the city. She described the chaos, but very quickly. Her main purpose was to say, "Tell my children I love them." I asked if she wanted to speak to her children. Her son was in my class. She said no, that she didn't want them to be alarmed. She said to make sure they knew that she was all right. She would talk to them when they were safely in their father's arms at home. She further asked that we protect them from the news, advised that we might want to keep all the news to ourselves until children could be advised by their parents. She later told us her whole harrowing experience, taking four days, much of it on foot, to get back safely to Canada. Her whole life changed after that event, but that is her story. I won't tell it.
       Myself, I remember walking around in a daze those next four days. Watching the images on CNN and other major news networks over and over again, trying to take it all in. On Friday, my principal asked me if I had written up an educational plan on one of my students who had major learning disabilities. I turned to her, and in all sincerity said, "What's the point?"  I really felt the end was nigh.
       By the weekend, we decided to head out for a long drive, out to the beach north of here, to get away from the television. It was a beautiful day, sunny and warm. It was good to breathe again, but I could not shake the dread. My husband and I prayed together, called our son and made an attempt to get on with it. But for a few weeks, I walked around as if wrapped in a thick grey gauze.
       Now it has been ten years. We settled back into our lives. The ups, the downs, life goes on. This morning as I look at memorial tributes and watch the old footage of the towers, I remember. Seems the end is not yet. I'm looking up. Whatever the future holds, "my times are in His hands." (Psalm 31:15) I look into the face of Jesus and find peace there. He is with me. I'm so grateful.

Quick Follow-Up

Do you know the symptoms of anaphylactic shock? After yesterday's fiasco, I looked up how to use an epipen on youtube and learned the symptoms. I did not know most of these. I thought shortness of breath and throat closing were the symptoms. Boy, was I wrong. You may want to check this out! It lists the symptoms of anaphylaxis. Like I said before, information goes a long way! Stay safe.

A Little Information Goes a Long Way

     Yesterday, my husband and I were anticipating our annual trip to Port Credit to take part in the salmon run that comes off Lake Ontario into the Credit River. By the first of September, the salmon arrive and so do many anglers. I had sorted through our collection of lures and fish-specific paraphernalia and felt pretty much ready to go. Little did I know then that I’d see no salmon that day.
     My husband had rushed home from work at about 1:30 in the afternoon to quickly cut the grass before we headed out to fish. About 2:30, he came to the back door and yelled, "Quick, quick, get me some Benedryl.” I could see he had some bites on his legs and feet. Thinking they were mosquito bites, albeit very large ones, I gave him the Benedryl itch spray. He then told me that in fact, he had been stung by 4-5 wasps. He thought he should take a couple of Benedryl pills, but I said that it would only make him tired and he'd never been allergic before, right? All I could envision was a drowsy angler trying to stay standing when trying to cast off the banks of the river.

      About an hour later he came in and was very red. His ears looked like slices of liver. Sweating profusely, he took off his shirt and it seemed that he had what looked like mosquito bites all over. I talked him into taking a cool bath and drink lots of water because he was really red and sweating. It was then he took the Benedryl.
      To be cautious, we called Telehealth Ontario, which is a phone in for advice medical line. We spoke with a nurse and she advised we go to emergency. By this time, his face was numb, his lips swollen and those mosquito bites were actually hives, a severe allergic reaction. They were spreading quickly. Good thing the hospital is right up the street from our house!
      He went through triage in the emergency ward quite quickly and within 30 minutes he went behind the closed doors to see the doctor. He still wasn’t out after a half an hour and I thought maybe there was another long wait behind that door. A nurse came to get me. I was shocked to see my dear one in a hospital gown with an IV in his hand hooked to two bags of suspicious looking drips and wires going from his chest to a heart monitor. Seems this wasn’t so simple. He had been given an immediate shot in the upper arm of epinephrine and now he was experiencing the slow drip of a "cocktail" of drugs to settle this thing down.
      He was there for over three hours before they let us go. They warned us to take this very seriously. Seems that once you show an allergy to bee and wasp stings, each episode is cumulative and worsens. This reaction had been “severe” and the next one could be fatal - that he could die if he did not have the proper attention quickly.
      Well, of course, I feel so guilty. I should have given him the pills immediately and maybe it wouldn't have been so severe. There was some information I didn't have. In the spring, cutting the grass in the same area, my husband had been stung before. He did mention this to me, but had left out the part that the neighbour had run over and given him Benedryl!!! She is allergic to stings and gave the pills to him as a precaution. That bit of information would have made a difference to me. When he first asked for the drug, I didn’t even know why he thought he’d need it. Had I known, I would have given it to him immediately. In the hospital, the doctor assured me that if my husband had had the Benedryl at home, it wouldn't have been enough to stop this, the reaction was too severe. But we’ll never know. BUT - note to self..."just do what he says!"
      So we’re calming down now. I’m so thankful this happened here, with the hospital right up the street from our home and not when we were in all kinds of small towns and in remote cottages on our holiday a couple of weeks ago.
      Today, we have epi-pens to carry and the Credit River is still there. The salmon have not all gone away and I’m praying that this is the day that my husband catches the biggest fish of his life!

A Time of Blessing

We have had a most wonderful opportunity - a reunion with beloved friends from the Netherlands! Years ago, in a most blessed period of our lives, we lived in the same community on the Sunshine Coast of BC.  Sadly, both our families were compelled to leave that location due to employment and family concerns. In the late 1990's, Our Dutch friends headed back to Europe and we came east to Ontario. We saw each other for 10 short days in 1999, when our family first moved to Ontario. Hans and Jo and baby Liam visited us and we all crammed into a most dismal, upstairs, rental apartment in an old house here in town. As I recall, I had to work most of the time and was just getting over a bout of pneumonia, but we had many laughs none-the-less. We spent Thanksgiving weekend together visiting St.Jacob's and Wasaga Beach. It was wonderful, but altogether too short. 

Over the years we wrote some letters and stayed connected with periodic emails. Last Christmas, Hans mentioned that they'd like to come to Canada once again. Quick plans were made. Shortly after Christmas they called from Holland to tell us that tickets were purchased....a done deal. I had months to plan and wonder what it would be like to reunite with these precious people after 12 years. Liam was now 14 years old. Wow.

I immediately emailed a friend who owns a superb cottage in Muskoka and arranged to rent it for 5 nights. I had only visited it twice, but knew it to be a haven of rest and beauty. My husband and I talked at length about what we could do...and our friends did some research from their end - all of us wondering and dreaming of an Ontario vacation that lay months ahead in August.

And then the day was upon us. We arrived at the airport early and waited and scanned that sizable Pearson crowd for over an hour. And then the doors opened and out they came. Strangely enough, I recognized Liam first. Same dimples! And right behind him, Yo and Hans. Didn't know who to hug first. We all laughed about getting older, but truly, our friends didn't look any different to me. Same smiles, same warmth.

Over the three weeks we were together, we laughed and told stories during, I'm sure, a thousand kilometres worth of car conversation as we scouted out many of Ontario's most beautiful locales - Midland, Penetanguishene, Collingwood, Craigleith, the Cheltenham Badlands, the covered bridge in Westmontrose, Port Carling, Bracebridge, Dorset, Baysville, Huntsville. We took a few boat cruises, did lots of fishing and introduced them to our closest buddies here. We stayed at Jennie and Jim's cottage outside Parry Sound. Both of them were born in Holland, so a smattering of Dutch was spoken around the table. (Not by me....I learned a great word and excuse my spelling - foukschnout - meaning "wrinkled face." It makes me laugh in the mirror as I consider my age -  foukschnout!)




Cheltenham Badlands near Erin.
Lived within an hour of this for years and never knew it existed!






Fishing again! Outside of Huntsville...

 



Oh Canada!



And food...in a Dutch bakery in Huntsville, I was introduced to Dutch Licorice Chalk, an amazing licorice covered in thin white mint. It looks like pieces of chalk. This has now become my all-time favourite candy. They also brought Strop waffles. What a cookie that is! (I am pleased to report that this can actually be purchased at some Starbucks locations. We saw some in Collingwood.) Yo and Hans made Nasi Goreng and Chicken Satays with cucumber salad - they were always great cooks. And we shared conversations over many meals in local restaurants.

We enjoyed our time at the cottage....highlight being that Hans celebrated a landmark birthday. Cake for breakfast! Hurray! It was a cool and rainy day, so we even lit the fireplace and read and relaxed until Hans took us all out for a great meal in a riverside restaurant in Huntsville. The sun came out to join us.

A highlight was to spend the day in the Niagara region as our son joined the five of us. We rode the Niagara Skywheel and toasted Han's birthday once more at Montana's restaurant where he had to don the dreaded horned hat for a birthday song.

And time again passed quickly...

This was a time of privilege for me. We love our friends. The house seemed decidedly empty the days after they left. We've poured over the hundreds of photos we took and we have dreams of meeting again much sooner...perhaps even next year in the Netherlands!

We are so grateful to the Lord for this reunion.

It's Just Too Much - Thursday, July 21

Not in my lifetime, have I seen temperatures like this. Not here. Not in Southern Ontario. I just checked the Weather Network and the humidex is 48 degrees celcius. They said it would get that high today, but I still sit here stupified. My dad called to ask if I thought that God was mad at us. And a sign posted in Markham says, "Satan called. He wants his weather back."  So I ask, what's happening?

Just went out grocery shopping, thinking - I have an air conditioned car. It's an air conditioned store. But the shortness of breath that I don't readily experience testified that being out there is down right perilous. What are the people doing without air conditioning in their homes? I must be kind and invite someone over.

To See the Minutiae

Lately I've been thinking about life. Life itself. Not the grand questions, not the "meaning of life," kinds of musings, but of living things. When I look across a yellow field of, what is it, canola?, I think of the millions of creatures living in that place - field mice, moles and voles, beetles and bees. Buzzing things and flying creatures, all created for purposes beyond my understanding.

 At my friend's house, all nestled at the edge of the forest, is an oasis of sound. Jays and Pileated woodpeckers, crows and the rustling of the trees themselves, breathing in the presence of their creator. There are not many places in everyday life that are conducive to contemplation. There are no reflection breaks penciled in on the lines of my daytimer. But life is there. It's everywhere. Every tiny creature, like the twinkling fireflies in my yard at dusk, shines for a moment, fulfills its purpose and is gone. I want to see, open my eyes and see....life.

Time to Breathe Again

      Oh, how wonderful to just sit and write once more! The last eight weeks have taken me through a whirlwind of essays and articles, assignments and powerpoints, report cards and graduations! There have been tornadoes of papers in my kitchen and twisters of printouts and handouts landing on every flat surface in the living room.  But time has done what it does best when you're busy....it flies! The school year ended in a blaze of tearful grade eight girls and generous gifts of appreciation all round. And in just three weeks, my course of study at Redeemer University will be over.

      Funny how we pressure ourselves into doing and doing, going and going. We were not created to be flying monkeys trying to catch our hats while swinging from tree to tree. In the midst of it all, I've tried to breathe deeply and know that these stresses are causing me to grow. I've conquered some relatively deep fears taking this course. I've felt like an awkward kindergarten child at times. And a forgetful dinosaur too. In a class of young primary teachers, I'm the old one. More experienced perhaps, but definitely not more knowledgeable. I've learned so much from these colleagues. I look forward to implementing new teaching practices. Not just because they're new. But because many of them are truly better. Not just the latest and greatest, but truly better approaches to creating book lovers. And as an Language teacher, that's my goal. So here I am again....writing, thinking out loud. I've sure missed this.