Making new memories with my nieces, 39 years later at the Islendingadagurinn

The beginning still looking refreshed. Edith, Olivia, Dilla, Julia - 3 generations ready to be in the parade.

What happens when you want to re-create your 1975 self with your younger sister? She refuses and you have to go to Plan B.

Fortunately I have a willing niece (my sister's daughter Julia) who saved the day and joined me in a whole lot of fun at the Islendingadagurinn (Icelandic Festival) parade on August 4, 2014. And my other niece, (my brother's daughter Olivia), came along and added some spice to our entry in the parade.

In 1975 the festival was celebrating 100 years since the Icelanders came to Canada and settled in the Interlake region of Manitoba. I was 12 and Peggy was 10. We were in Gimli for the holidays and our aunt Dilla had been planning for us to be in the parade dressed as little Icelandic girls pulling the wagon from the farm (which was ancient then) with a sign that said,

We are so glad you came to Canada 100 years ago
The heritage of both worlds has helped as we grow.

I know - TOO CUTE! Little did I remember what kind of a planner my aunt is and how a simple phrase said last year on a visit during the festival would set in motion a full-year planning cycle for this year's festival. Last year we found out that the festival was celebrating 125 years (for the festival, not the Icelanders settling in Canada) and I said to Peggy, with Dilla present, we should go in the parade again. Peggy refused and Dilla started planning. By the time I left Gimli last summer she already had a black skirt I could wear for part of the costume.

One side view of the wagon and the 1975 picture of me and Peggy.

And that was just the beginning...

Phone calls, letters started happening. Had I booked enough places for all of our families to stay (4 siblings plus spouses, plus children, we are a crowd!)? She would go down and check a few out and let me know. She thought she could get one of the Icelandic costumes from Shelley (cousin) for Julia but I would have to put something together for myself (YIKES - sewing is not my thing). Had I thought of what we would decorate with? Would we get the wagon from the farm? Did it even exist anymore? This from an 85 turning 86 (now) aunt. She was relentless and I was beginning to panic.

By late February she had sent me a package with mock-ups of the panels for the vest and instructions on how to add silver threading for the decorative part of the costume. I knew I was in serious trouble. I needed HELP.

On top of that, she included the original letter she wrote to us in 1975 with her plans then. How she was sewing our costumes, had we been measured yet, what should we have on the wagon, etc. etc. 1975 and 2014 were eerily similar. I needed a strategy.

I contacted the Edmonton chapter of the Icelandic National League, of which I am a member. Joedy Englesby, President of the Club, SAVED the day. When I asked if they had any costumes I could "borrow", she responded with a resounding "YES they had plenty. Just pop by when in Edmonton to check them out and I would be on my way." Several months later I ended up in Edmonton, met Joedy at the club and found the perfect fit with all the trimmings (hat, belt, apron, shirt). I breathed a HUGE sigh of relief. I knew sewing the costume or having it made was a feat I was not capable of completing.

Next on the agenda were the wagon decorations. I decided getting posters made with pictures of 1975 and the present with the saying would be the easiest until I went looking for that letter Dilla sent with the original wording. Do you think I could find that letter? And do you think I could remember the whole saying? The first sentence looped in my brain and nothing else. The dreaded email to Dilla had to happen. I had to ask her if she remembered the whole saying. If you have any Icelandic aunts you will know what kind of a response you are going to get. The automatic rebuke came back - "I sent you the letter with that included, where is it?" she asked. The search was on and at the 11th hour I found the letter.

Now on to Gimli. My idea of decorating and my husband's are 2 different things. I was sure the posters were enough, but the now almost 100 year old wagon (probably built by my great Uncle Mundi) needed serious reinforcements to carry the structure to attach the posters. And he wanted to decorate it as well with balloons, streamers, Icelandic flags. I left him at Dilla's place in the woodworking shop doing that task 2 days before the parade while I gathered the candy to hand out and searched for blue, white, red streamers. If you know me, this would be my least favourite part. I wouldn't decorate for my own wedding, why would anyone think I would be up for this! Martha Stewart NOT!

Look at the wheels on this wagon - amazing how it has stood the test of time. Uncle Mundi made things to last!

Countless hours of manual labour and more than $200 in expenses later there we were walking the route of the parade. The crowds were lined up along the streets. We left the starting point pulling a wagon that I was sure was going to collapse along the way.

But like the Icelanders before us it stood the test of time - we do come from sturdy stock. We made it with the wagon intact and we managed to relax, have fun and put smiles on the faces of the young and old alike.

Thanks to my aunt, 39 years ago we won 1st prize in our category for the parade (I think they made one up just for us) and we were $25 richer - an enormous amount for us and to this day Peggy and I can still remember how it felt to be richer beyond our wildest dreams in the summer of '75. I know from current experience that my aunt was definitely poorer in cash but she taught us how putting effort and time into anything yields rewards beyond wealth.

And in 2014, thanks to Dilla, I realized how lucky I am to have people in my life who want to share in the load of getting things done so I can participate and make memories of a lifetime. So thank you Dilla, Pat, Shelley, Clifford and anyone else who helped make our entry possible.

Most of all THANK YOU to my awesome nieces, Julia and Olivia for joining me in making new memories and continuing the tradition of getting involved in our heritage. I love you all.

And Peggy joins us at the end. Edith, Peggy, Olivia, Julia.

Islendingadagurinn Parade Pictures 2014

Olivia, Julia, Edith, before the parade begins.

Olivia & Julia - the 2 nieces

Uncle Oli & Aunt Marge - dignitaries in the parade.

Cameron Arnason - President of the Islendingadagurinn and Janice Arnason, Past-President (cousins of mine).

Gimli Chapter of the Icelandic National League parade participants. Dilla will be on the float.

Dilla (middle) on the float.

Parade participant.

Just getting started - we are still looking refreshed.

Julia handing out candy.

How did I get stuck pulling the wagon?

Olivia, the viking warrior, carrying candy - somehow that doesn't fit.

Our fan base!

And more of our fan base.

Lisa and Denise - more of our fan base!

Taking a break from the wagon.

Olivia's turn!

My great-niece and nephew - too cute!

Julia and me at the end - still walking on our own two feet.

Olivia catches a ride to the end - what is up with that?

The 2014 Icelandic Festival of Manitoba Fjallkona, Hedy Bjornson, being escorted into the park. The Fjallkona "Lady of the Mountain", is the female incarnation (national personification) of Iceland.

5 Good Reasons to Wake Up Early

Yes, I am an early morning person. I routinely wake up between 4:30 am to 5:00 am, even on weekends when I have been up late the night before. It is one reason why I dislike the "fall-back" of the clocks. The clock may have gone back an hour but my body is still waking me up at the same time only now it is one hour earlier. 4:30 am sounds early, try 3:30 am! Welcome to my world.

So this morning I woke up determined to find some darn good reasons for waking up early and lo and behold, I found them.

1. I can linger over a good cup of coffee (or three) while I take my time reading the newspaper.

2. Suppers are ready when I get home because I put together a stew, soup, curry, whatever, in the crockpot. Bonus - delicious smells permeate the house.

3. I have time and energy to get my workout in before the demands of others creep into my daily schedule. Cue those biceps!

4. I am truly tired when it is time to go to bed, and I don't have to worry about people calling - everyone knows I am in bed by 8:00 pm.

5. I witness the most amazing sunrises starting my day off with a lasting feeling of "awe".

Have an AWESOME day everyone.

5 pictures to celebrate the first snowfall.

We had our first snowfall of the season and while winter isn't my favourite season, the first snowfall really is magical. I couldn't wait to get out this morning and start taking pictures. My run consisted of lots of stops as I tried to capture the beauty of the snow frosting the landscape. To all my "Camino girlfriends" the first snowfall is like the first day we encountered the cobblestones on our walk. You are so enchanted by the beauty on the first day and by the last you are cursing up a storm as you fight the blisters covering your feet from walking on all those *&#@ing cobblestones. Knowing myself well, I am pretty confident that I will be the same way with this winter. I start off enjoying the snow and by the end of winter I have cursed every blessed snowflake that fell.

So while I am still enjoying it I am going to share my top 5 pictures from today's winter wonderland to celebrate our first snowfall. Stay warm everyone :)

How to turn 80 with ease - 5 easy steps.

Jill and her birthday cake - a ready smile and laugh.

I am back from a great holiday visiting family and celebrating my Aunt Jill's 80th birthday and I am starting a new way of blogging. Taking a tip from all those magazine articles and using my sister Peggy's favorite number, 5, I am going to start coming up with posts that have 5 of something - easy steps, things, thoughts, warnings... you get the drift :)

So back to Aunt Jill and following her example, here are 5 easy steps on how to turn 80 with ease.

1. Live every day with a smile on your face and a laugh ready to bubble up at the slightest humorous anecdote.

2. Open your door and your arms to whoever shows up.

3. Have an Atlantic lobster feast for guests even when you had them at "hello".

4. Be interested in others and be interesting. Listen to stories and tell stories often (especially those stories about doing yoga back in the 60s and getting royalties for your face in a commercial - who knew?!).

5. When your niece phones to say she wants to come out to celebrate your 80th tell her that you are excited about turning 80 because now you can ski (downhill) for free at the slopes :)

Happy Birthday Jill. You look 50, act 20 and you are a great role model for how to get LIFE out of every moment. (And thanks to all the cousins for a great party!!)

Growing with a little help from my family....this one is for Niki :)

When I started blogging in 2010 it was so I could get things out of my head and do some writing, something I had wanted to do all my life. Putting a blog out there was a great way to get into the discipline of writing regularly. It worked for quite a while until the inertia hit and my energy plummeted. Cue menopause, full time work, adult children, mother with alzheimer's, LIFE. Who knows what sapped my energy and whisked it away. All I know is that I barely had the energy to get through the week and the weekends were gone before I had a chance to do everything I wanted. So the blog lapsed. I rallied a few times over the last year but just barely.

When I went to Gimli in August to see family, my cousin Niki told me how much she loved reading my posts on my blog. I told her I hadn't done much this past year because I just didn't have the energy. Immediately she said, "Edith, don't you post anything unless you are up to it." She understood that lack of energy having experienced it herself.

But I knew I was missing something. I knew I was missing doing the very thing I most wanted to do - I want to write. I want to express myself. I want to combine my writing and photography and the blog is the perfect place for me to get creative, take a risk, put myself out there and do what I know long term is good for my soul. I have to make the time. I have to know that even when I don't feel like it, I have to push through and do it because when I complete that post, it lifts my spirits and my energy increases.

And Niki you helped me get back on the path. You gave me the encouragement I needed, letting me know that my writing is appreciated and at the same time you gave me permission to do what is right for me in any moment. What a relief to know that I have so many "supporters" out there who love what I create but most importantly LOVE me for who I am, not what I do.

These pictures are for you Niki - you were the sunshine that gave me the nourishment I needed to keep growing. Thank you :)

Being at the tail-end of the baby boomer generation is like being the runts of the litter at the trough...

I didn't come up with that quote but when I heard it - I knew I had to use it for this week's post. It describes those of us born at the tail-end of the baby boomer generation perfectly. For years I have been saying that when it was time for me to retire they would change the rules so I would have to keep working all because of those "baby boomers" who had sucked the place dry. For some reason they put those of us at the tail-end in the same category - part of the baby boomer generation. We know better. We know that being at the tail-end meant that when it was our turn to feed there wouldn't be anything left but a few tiny scraps.

We were the part of the baby boomer generation that actually had to pay for our education. Tuition rates were on the increase when we got to university/college. The real baby boomers got their education for almost nothing - even accounting for inflation and putting it into present-day dollars their education was still basically a give-away. Not for us. By the time the largest group of the baby boomers went through the post-secondary system governments finally realized that this was costing them way too much and debt was piling up. By the time the tail-end went through it would be the very people that benefited from a cheap, quality education who would be encouraging governments to reduce taxes and start charging.

The baby boomers were also the generation that got the best of jobs as they entered the market when the economy was booming and the older generation were retiring. When the recession of the 80's hit and the tail-end tried to find work, we couldn't get through the door or if we were in the door, we were the first to get laid off because we had the least seniority.

And those baby boomers were the ones that got those golden handshakes when leaving (a lot of them). They could retire early on full pensions and come back and work on contract, pulling in the big dollars. Now that I am within 5 years of retiring on a full pension at the age of 55, guess what? You're right - they are going to change the rules. I won't be able to fully retire at 55 even though I will have worked for that 1 employer for 34 years. Of course it won't affect those already retired - NO, why make those baby boomers pay for a system that they largely created. NO, make the tail-end pay as we have all our lives.

But at least we have a trough. Who I really feel sorry for is the generations after us. Our trough will have a few scraps for us to fight over. The generations after us? There is no trough. Isn't it funny that the generation that spoiled their children the most is the very generation that begrudges their children an affordable education, benefits, job security and pension plans. Let's face it - we are the generation that has the power in corporations and government. We are the ones making the very decisions that are cutting all the benefits and security that we enjoyed (even if it will come to some of us a bit later). We cost the system a huge amount of money and when it was time to pay - we wanted to default on that loan. We wanted governments to chop taxes, corporations to get lean and mean and do everything on the cheap. We don't want to pay for what we have already spent. We want the next generation to pay.

What I don't understand is why we don't see the writing on the wall. Nursing homes and assisted living facilities are in our future. Are we that arrogant that we think we won't end up there? For a system that wants everything to be cheap and a system that the baby boomers created, this will be the one bill that we will have to face. And I won't blame the younger generation for letting us wallow in our filth, refusing to pay for our care. As a generation - we are doing it to our parents right now. You only have to read the headlines to know that if the care of our elderly is in crisis now, what will it be like when the largest group in our history - the baby boomers - go through. The tail-end is already used to feeding last and we know our future lot. For those baby boomers ahead of us - if you want compassion as you age, it's time to wake up now and create a reason for the younger generation to care. And if you think you will bypass the fate of your parents - good luck with that. The odds are not in your favour.

That's my rant for the week :) Next posting, I will go back to my "happy place". And thanks to my friend for passing on that great quote from a friend of hers - love it!

Storing my "nuts" for winter.

Using the squirrel as my model for what to do before winter comes, I am going to start storing all my "nuts" for those long cold winter days. In case I forget how wonderful the start of September has been, I am writing it down now. For two solid weeks we have had glorious sunny and warm days. The sunflowers are bursting, the temperatures soaring and the sun shining everywhere I go.

What is so great about a warm September? Everything. The flowers are still blooming, leaves are still on the trees, grass is still green and it feels like summer has extended its stay. And in Northern Alberta any time summer lingers I am grateful. You won't know that by the time we hit the 2nd month of snow and -30 as I grumble my way through the winter. That's why I am storing this. I want to have a "happy" place to go to soak up a few sunny memories and remind myself that we will have these warm, sunny days again.

I get why the bears are roaming our town right now feeding on all the abundance of the berries, fruit and anything else they can get their paws on (not me yet). And I get why they hibernate. Fill that stomach to bursting, store some fat and then sleep through the worst of the cold and dark days of winter. The flocks of geese, swans, cranes that are going south - I get it! That includes all you "snowbirds" who are booking tickets, cleaning out the RV, closing up the house - I get it!

But I don't want to. I want to stay in this "happy" place. I want to roll in the sunbeams, bury my nose in the flowers, sit and watch the sunsets and linger for as long as I can. I know I can't "keep" a moment, but I sure can "make" a memory and store it for those cold, dark days that are sure to come along.

Happy Fall Everyone.

My husband, Farmer Pat, Growing Community

There are many reasons for me to celebrate my husband. He is a wonderful human being, generous, kind, supportive, intelligent, creative. You name the great qualities of a person and he has them.

As the Fall approaches and harvest time is in full gear, I want to celebrate my husband's keen interest in growing things and most of all growing community as he goes along. Pat is a long time farmer. He grew up on a very small farm during the 50's, 60's, 70's. The farm was so small that they thrashed and milked the cows by hand. YES by hand even in the 70's. With four growing boys (the other 2 children were much older and both had moved on to their adult life when Pat was growing up), the family farm had an abundance of labour to till the fields and keep the livestock fed and watered. His mother also had a hungry horde of mouths to feed and she was an excellent cook. Every year they planted a huge garden that would feed them throughout the year. Pat spent many hours planting, weeding, weeding, weeding, weeding.....and harvesting along with the rest of the family. He knew where his food came from and appreciated the effort that went into gathering, preparing, storing and cooking all that food.

Our house is 1/2 of a duplex and our lot is very small. The opportunities for gardening are limited. But that hasn't stopped Pat. He has been working on his garden from the very beginning, planting apple trees, doing container gardening and two years ago - converting our front yard into a vegetable patch. What started as a way to get rid of the dandelion crop that seemed to flourish on our yard every year, turned into a passion that expressed Pat's love of the land. The first year was potatoes with a row of sunflowers at the front. We had lots of people stop to ask what we were doing with our yard. As the summer progressed and the crop grew, we had many people tell us that it was a great use of the land. Pat's enthusiasm increased expressing how much "lawns" are a waste of treated water and how much could be grown if everyone converted their lawns to gardens. He would tell people about how this was the norm for most people back in the early part of the 19th century until the 1940's when a lawn became a status symbol of your wealth. A lawn meant you didn't have to grow food to sustain your family.

Pat's conversations engaged others. Dialogue started and neighbours dropped by to see what was going on. As the crop flourished, he told friends and neighbours with children to come by and "pick" with him, showing the children how the food came out of the ground. Pat's love of knowledge was passed on as he explained the harvest process to the children as they pulled the plant from the ground and turned up the dirt to reveal the hidden treasure of potatoes. Many smiles of wonder and small faces full of concentration filled my camera as I photographed these harvests.

And it grew community. We have met people who are new to town, new to Canada and neighbours that we never really knew. Children ask their parents when they can go and pick with "Pat". I bring in fresh produce to share with co-workers and Pat drops off produce to friends who are unable to drop by. This year he invited children to come and plant with him, putting stakes in the ground with their name on it so they could see how their planting turned into the produce they would harvest in the Fall. Parents joined in and I got to be involved by taking pictures and showing the children all the "cool" spiders that were around our house because of all the diversity Pat had created on our small piece of land.

Pat didn't grow the vegetables for our consumption. We can't keep up with just the two of us and so far we haven't had time to invest in canning/storing. Pat tapped into his heritage to express his soul, a love of the land, an intense sense of AWE with the natural world and a real need to connect to others. He is the best teacher for how to be in communion with others. You do what you do with love, passion, creativity, hard work and SHARE without expectation. To SERVE because that is what drives your every moment knowing that when you connect with creation, with your human family, your soul is being nourished. You are letting LOVE in and LOVE out.

Pat you are the real expression of LOVE in my life. I feel love for you and you are so much more than that in my life - you ARE LOVE, what LOVE was always meant to be - a verb - an act of generosity of spirit given to the world. Thanks for being my greatest teacher in how to be a part of the human family. I LOVE YOU!

Sunflowers and spiders. What a Day!

She is just visible between the petals. Find the beautiful sunflower-spider.

The sun came out yesterday along with the spiders. Spiders, spiders everywhere and I am loving every minute of being a "spider paparazzi" . I don't know about the spiders though. I think they may be a bit sick of me disturbing their stillness as they wait for prey to land. But I can't help myself. They are the coolest things to watch and try to capture on my camera. I haven't quite got the photo technique down yet and I am still enjoying every moment of trying.

My thumb to give perspective to how big she is.

The coolest yesterday and today is the spider that is living in the yellow sunflower that popped out this past week. It is the same type of spider I saw a few years back that popped out of a dandelion as I was snapping away at the wonderful colours on the dandelion's wilted petals. That spider was yellow and perfectly camouflaged. I only knew of the spider's existence when I got really close and it moved. WOW. I was stunned and quickly changed my settings on the camera to take a small video. (Link to video below the spider pictures).

Spiders haven't always been my favorites and I would probably still scream if one landed on me, especially if it landed on my head. As I was out spider hunting in Pat's apple trees I realized that might come to pass. The spiders can really hide under the leaves, many of which are above my head.

But I still go on. The joy of discovery is too great to give up on this pursuit. And the sunflower spider is so perfectly suited to its environment. The spider is able to hide amongst the petals and you can't help but be in AWE when you find her. Yes, I have decided it is a "her". She is so lovely and this afternoon as I was trying to get my "jittery" husband to pull back a petal so I could take a picture (he likes spiders from a distance - a great distance!), we saw a baby spider identical to the mother. I am sure there are spider experts out there that will contradict me and tell me that it is a male - that's okay. I want to learn more about these amazing insects. At the same time I just want to open my eyes and be awestruck with wonder every single moment.

What a wonderful world we live in.

Little Yellow Spider from Edith Mackenzie on Vimeo.

When 50th birthday parties collide with culture...OR...Watch what you say to your "friends".

I recently turned 50 and my "friends" made sure I started celebrating early. For the past 15 years or more we have been surprising each other with 40th birthdays and now on to 50th celebrations. We upped the ante for the 50th's and "kidnapped" each other, taking the birthday girl to exotic locales like San Francisco, Canmore, Lloydminster (that's a whole other post) and back to Canmore for mine. My birthday was June 30th, but I got kidnapped for the long weekend in May. After the 40th they sprung on me you would think I would be a lot more suspecting. Apparently not. I did have a twinge of doubt back in February when a friend booked me for the Thursday before the long weekend but she quickly made me feel guilty for being suspicious and I threw that thought out of my mind. So there I was completely surprised when I walked into the Hotel MacDonald lounge to see my group of friends already enjoying a cocktail and I knew the party was just beginning.

Out came a costume for me to wear - a wonderfully green leprechaun outfit. Why this costume? Because I had always wanted to do a walking trip in Ireland. They wanted me to believe that we would be heading to the airport the next day to do just that. They didn't confiscate my cell phone so I was able to make an emergency call to my husband while in the toilet stall and find out if my passport was still at home. It was and so I could relax knowing that I wasn't going on an impromptu trip to Ireland.

I learned from all our other surprise birthday parties that I had a part in planning and enjoying to go with the flow. Do whatever they tell you and put a smile on your face. It takes the "starch" right out of them and really, you don't want to miss out on a great party.

After making a pit stop at the airport the next morning so they could try and make me believe we were going to Ireland, we headed to Canmore for a fun-filled weekend with costume changes and challenges for me. Friday I was dressed in my dirndl with a blond braided wig and a viking helmut to complete the outfit. I was paraded around town as we grocery-shopped and picked up the "spirits" for the festivities. My highlight were the Girl Guides at the local Sobey's who asked if I had come in a time machine. Too cute!

I was a good sport (too good apparently, my friends wanted to see me "sweat" a little bit) and I aced all the challenges. We all had our laughs along the way. The best laughs (at me) happened when I did the fitness challenge at the outdoor gym in the park while wearing my dirndl. I used the piece of equipment backwards (what happens when you have a time-limit for your event!) and ended up flat on my back while "friends" laughed and took photos BEFORE coming to my aid.

Our last evening and last costume change is where I learned to be careful about what I tell people and where I want to set the record straight. If my "friends" had been listening to me over the years they would have known that I and my little sister, Peggy, always wanted to be the "maids" of the Fjallkona. Growing up we had been to numerous Islendingadagurinn's (Icelandic Festival) in Gimli, Manitoba, and the Fjallkona (Maid of the Mountain) represented Iceland at the festival. The Fjallkona is a woman who sits on an elevated throne wearing a white gown, green robe with ermine, golden belt, high-crowned headdress and white veil. The maids were two young women dressed in white, usually chosen because they were the nieces of the Fjallkona for that year. Peggy and I always wanted to be those maidens. When our Aunt Dilla was finally selected as Fjallkona in 1994, we were 31 and 29 and even though we may not have been "maidens" in the traditional sense - we still thought we should have been the maids because we were the youngest of Dilla's nieces. Dilla chose differently and selected two grand-nieces for the job. We still feel robbed!

So what happens when your 50th birthday and culture collide - a horrible representation of some unknown cross between a vampire and bride of the dead. Fjallkona NOT! And they missed the mark. I wanted to be a MAID in her pretty white dress, white gloves (they used to wear those when we were small) and white shoes attending the Maid of the Festival. Once again, I feel robbed. I did get an appreciation for the Fjallkona in her green robe with ermine that she wears in the heat of August. At menopausal 50 anything "velvet" and fur is a cruel thing to make someone wear. I don't know how the Fjallkona managed to wear hers in the heat and still look regal. I just look like some scruffy stray.

The moral of this story? Be careful what you say to your friends and if you do tell them something that may come back to haunt you - make sure you send them pictures to illustrate. Don't leave it up to their imagination!

Lastly - enjoy every moment. No matter how far off the mark they are, the fact that you have friends who plan a surprise for months is the greatest gift of all. Friends who know how to have fun, to help you laugh at yourself and to be there to celebrate life are the best friends to have. Thank you to all my friends.

And wait until your 60th's ....click on the audio clip.

http://www.payer.de/kommkulturen/kultur0413.wav

(Be very afraid....)

The real Fjallkona (Maxine Ingalls) and her maids in the 2013 Islendingadagurinn's (Icelandic Festival) Parade.

http://vimeo.com/72593674?utm_source=email&utm_medium=clip-transcode_complete-finished-20120100&utm_campaign=7701&email_id=Y2xpcF90cmFuc2NvZGVkfDM4NjljOGI3MGY3OWY0YmFmYjAwOGU1NTAyZTc3NzNiMjY2fDQ1MTA2Mzl8MTM3NjgzOTU5MQ%3D%3D

Stories from Gimli

I spent my summer vacations going to Gimli, Manitoba where my mother had been born and raised (here is where my aunt would correct me - she was born and raised on Víðivöllum, a farm about 6 miles from Gimli). We drove from Southern Ontario to Manitoba which was usually a 3 day trip. This trip was agonizing as a child, a child who couldn't wait to be there and even worse, stuffed in the backseat with 3 siblings. When we got to the farm we spilled out of that car to be greeted by our Afi (grandfather), great Uncle Mundi, Uncle Oli, Aunt Gwen, usually Aunt Dilla and whoever else was on the farm upon our arrival. Being the youngest of 17 grandchildren, we were showered with attention and then left to explore and tag along to the barn, the beach and town.

The highlight of our summer was the Islendingadagurinn(the Icelandic Festival) that happened the long weekend in August. Back then it was a 1 day festival that started with a parade, had a program in the park, rides, races, food and every relative in one place. Our aunts and uncles would give us money to spend and because we were the youngest, our older cousins would often pay our way on the rides. I still remember the joy of counting our money before the festival and then after, discovering that we had more money than we started with! We thought we had hit the mother-lode and Gimli became a true place of plenty.

This year I made the trek back to visit. Having turned 50 this year it was more important than ever to get to Gimli. As I age, so do all of my aunts and uncles and "cousins by the dozens". I went 2 years ago with my mom - her last time trip home, and I realized then how important it is to get "home" and be with the people you love. Home really is where the heart is and for as much as I have fond memories of Gimli, it is my relatives that made it such a special place. Being with them, sharing with them, listening to them builds the "DNA" of our souls that gets passed on from generation to generation. We discover what makes us human, what our heritage is and how each generation adds to the "flavour" that makes us all connected and at the same time unique.

We had a wonderful visit with my Aunt Marge and Uncle Oli while we were there - Oli being my mom's only brother and a favourite of all his sisters, 4 who are still living (including my mom). Our family are great story-tellers and Oli told us a wonderful story of how an accordion from Iceland came into the family in 1930. I wanted to share this story with you, to share part of our family "DNA". The video is about 5 minutes and it includes some good music - get ready to do some toe-tapping and just enjoy the ride. After all, you are family too - part of the large "human family" that makes me feel at "home" wherever I go.

http://vimeo.com/72118830?utm_source=email&utm_medium=clip-transcode_complete-finished-20120100&utm_campaign=7701&email_id=Y2xpcF90cmFuc2NvZGVkfGUyYTUzODIyN2EzZTE4ZmIwNjJjM2NiYWRmNGQ1ZmM0MTU2fDQ1MTA2Mzl8MTM3NjE4NTc4Ng%3D%3D

Sunflowers....For a Dear Friend, MJ and your family

For you MJ and your family, sunflowers from heaven.

The journey you have traveled with your sister, Donna May, has been a long one. You were only able to accompany her and be a witness to her journey over the last four years as she underwent treatment for breast cancer, went into remission, had the cancer spread, to her final days in the hospice. You have been on a journey as well. To lose a sister is to lose a person who has shared your life, who knows the best and the worst of you and who loves you regardless. To lose a sister before old-age is to leave you floundering in a sea of life that becomes larger and lonelier.

As Donna May's favorite flower was sunflowers and the journey you and your family is one you walk alone, remembering the sunflower as one of God's most powerful symbols of our lives may bring you some comfort. We may walk alone, but our path is never without the loving arms of God's abundant love embracing us every step of the way.

In memory of Donna May, remember the sunflower and how amazing it is:

Sunflowers turn toward the sunlight, always searching to get the rays that give them life.

Sunflowers have powerful stems that carry the weight of their fruit and allow them to twist and turn towards the light without breaking.

Sunflowers come in the brilliant colours of the sun - bright yellows, burning oranges and vibrant reds - symbols of the life-giving light they turn to.

Sunflowers grow to bear an incredible bounty of seeds that burst out from their pods and mature as the waning days of summer begin.

Sunflowers provide nourishment for birds who pick up those seeds and spread them around populating the world with a garden of sunshine.

Sunflower seeds sit in the soil until the warmth of spring arrives and they push up to reveal their newness of life, slowly revealing their beauty day by day.

Sunflowers burst to life surrounded by whatever the landscape provides adding to the beauty of what they have been given.

To MJ and your family, may the comfort of the sunflower's promise bring you peace knowing that your sunflower has nourished you all with the seeds of her life and she will continue to spread as you drop those seeds to bring beauty to God's landscape. She has embraced the light and let her spirit fall into the eternal loving arms of God, bringing her sunshine to all of you as you walk the lonely path of grief. She is there with God's loving arms surrounding you with love and light to lead you out of the darkness.

The i-phone 5 and how I got my running partner (and my groove) back.

Cindy using her phone to take her picture at the end of our run.

Over the years I have had several wonderful running partners, only to be disappointed when they fell away from injury or they literally moved out-of-town and out of my running life.

Cindy was my last running partner. We had been co-workers and friends for years and enjoyed each other's company. When Cindy started to run, our friendship was cemented as we woke early most weekdays to meet each other on the road, spending Saturday and Sunday's going further and then for coffee/lattes. We found an easy pace together with our footfalls finding a steady rhythm through rain, snow, wind and cold that only a Northern Canadian can understand.

I soon learned that the running was peripheral, the conversation was the essential that got me up day after day. We laughed, we cried, we debated, we listened (well mostly Cindy listened), we felt, we reflected -- we bonded with every step.

When I learned that Cindy was moving far away, I desperately grasped onto those last runs trying to cram in every topic, every crisis, every moment. While I bravely said all the things that would make the move easier - "we will stay in touch, we will keep connected" - I knew that all those things would be more challenging. Our daily contact would become brief exchanges via email and the occasional phone call as our busy lives would interfere with "being together". I grieved my loss and went back to mostly solo runs, spiralling in my own self-talk.

We tried to re-connect via cell phones and blue tooth a year ago. Both of us missed our morning breathless talks and wanted to try to create a "virtual" run together. The experiment was a flop - the technology we had couldn't replicate the side-by-side runs we had so often enjoyed.

And then two months ago we (me and my husband Pat) bought an i-phone 5. Pat and I learned how to use this new toy and I found that this cell phone was just what I had been waiting for. It had all the features I would have created had I been the developer - I didn't have to "type" my texts, I could ask Siri or even easier, dictate the message and correct the few little errors. I could "record" a message knowing that people open texts but don't often check voicemail. I could take pictures and send them via text. I could download audiobooks and listen while travelling. And then came the ultimate discovery...

I could re-connect to Cindy and once again run with her by my side (quantum physics - I get it now!). Last Sunday was our first test and it was fabulous. We both have unlimited long distance in Canada, both have i-phones, have the earphones with microphone that we can plug in and so we headed out together. BLISS! We had a few hiccups - wind that came across the cellphone waves too loudly, the microphone banging against jacket zippers - but overall, it was like Cindy was right next to me.

Me at the end of my run - thank you i-phone for giving me Cindy back!

Yes, I will be running around town "talking to myself". But mostly I will be absorbed by the steady rhythm of our friendship. A friendship that has kept me centred, heard, understood, entertained, challenged and open to life. Our runs always made me feel lighter - not in weight, but in spirit. Cindy makes me "want to be a better person" and those are the best friends to have.

Thanks i-phone 5 and thanks Cindy - your friendship is what the best of technology can do - connect us to each other.

Happy Trails Everyone.

My Dad, My Ego

With Father's Day here, dad's been on my mind. I have been thinking of how much of a presence he had in my life and how his larger than life ego filled my growing up years. He was opinionated, intelligent, loud, and his presence was overwhelming. From the demands he made, to the jokes he cracked, to the profession he chose (surgeon - emergency room), to the friends he cultivated, to the family ties he insisted on - he dominated every aspect of our lives. There was no missing him and no matter how quiet you were, there was no hiding from him.

Let me make myself clear - my dad was a wonderful man. Loving, generous, fun and he had a BIG ego. He was no wallflower waiting for the party to come to him - he always grabbed the attention and held on to it, sometimes in the most outlandish ways. He never let his children off the hook, always challenging us to debates, getting us to speak our minds so he could show us the error of our logic/argument, pushing us in our studies and sports to always do better. It was hard to live up to expectations that were just out of reach because the target kept moving every time we took a shot. There was no resting on our "laurels".

Dad didn't rest either. His ego may have been BIG, but his sense of justice, thirst for knowledge, devotion to family and strong belief in service put that ego to good use. And he taught us that if your primary focus is to feed your ego, you will always find someone else with a bigger and hungrier ego waiting to devour yours. He made us think, question our assumptions/knowledge and learn to listen to others - even if it was just listening to him. He showed us how your "gut" reaction could be extreme but your SOUL would be there to make you humble, to help you learn, to forgive, to be open to AWE and to LOVE.

His greatest gift was his ability to tell the funniest stories about himself - the ones where his ego and arrogance had taken control and put him in an awkward situation. He would have us laughing as he laughed at that small part of himself that demanded attention. He set the example so we could lighten up, let go of our small selves and let the creative power of the universe be our guide to much greater pastures of enlightenment.

And when he couldn't set a good example, his poor behaviour did the job. Dad was smart - he knew that each generation is responsible for their choices and we can choose to grow up, to become adults who choose love as our source and let that ego tantrum itself out.

Thank you Dad. I love you and I know I am well loved always. Your presence is still BIG and with me in the place you made home - my heart.

Happy Mother's Day Alda....you are the BEST.

It's Mother's Day and time to celebrate the woman who made it possible for me and my siblings to exist. Her combination of growing up on the Prairies during the Depression and a personality that was on the obsessive compulsive side of the spectrum created an upbringing of memorable moments that I chuckle at, marvel at, imitate and that proves reality really is stranger than fiction.

Combine that with her marriage to my dad who was born and raised in southern Alberta to "fine old Ontario family - FOOF's" and who was clearly on the ADD side of the spectrum and you have a winning combination for some really quirky memories of growing up.

The best part - they both could laugh about it when we would constantly recount these stories to them as we became firmly entrenched in our adulthood and parenthood. Better yet, our children all had close relationships with their grandparents and could start telling stories about their experiences with "Amma and Grampa" that made us all laugh at the "functional dysfunction" of our parents.

What a ride!

Here's to you Alda - you survived raising four beautiful children who came with their own set of quirks, survived them going on to create the next generation of 12 grandchildren who have emerged with a whole new set of funky personalities and to your first great-grandchild who is keeping us entertained with all of her cute antics.

You taught me that life is to be savoured for every moment it gives you, to be reflected on with a new set of eyes gained from the experience of living, to laugh at the ridiculousness of ourselves and to help the next generation find their own path to enlightenment. "Lighten" is the key - lighten up through a constant letting go of that ego by seeing yourself for who you really are - one with all and all with one.

Thanks mom - I love you beyond words.

"Game of Thrones" and the Uncensored Life....

What happens to two normal adults when all the children are gone? They quit censoring themselves and they start watching "Game of Thrones".

I realized this morning while sitting with Pat reading the Saturday "Edmonton Journal" that our language has completely deteriorated to the point that we sound like we are in the oldtimer's hockey dressing room. Who knew that without kids around we could fall so far?

And that's not the worst part - we watched Season 1 of "Game of Thrones", completely absorbed and got over the embarrassment of all the full frontal nudity & sex quite quickly. In fact, we were at a total loss when the last episode finished and couldn't think of what we would do until Season 2 is out. We downloaded Season 1 of "Downton Abbey" and it is intriguing, but I have to tell you, not quite as absorbing without all that sex.

With children in the house we behaved quite well - checked our language, censored what we watched, made sure we showed them how to wash dishes and didn't subscribe to cable (who wants to listen to kids fighting over what channel to watch!). I blame our complete turn-around on when the children left home, when we bought a house with a dishwasher, when mom came to live with us for 6 months and we subscribed to cable so we could watch the Winter Olympics with her. When mom moved back to Ontario, we kept the cable and we were hooked following tv series we didn't know existed before.

Without kids home to disapprove we make all sorts of jokes with "sexual" innuendos, laugh at our quirky selves, shamelessly spend quiet moments together, and swear a "blue streak". My mother would be shocked! So would our children. Pretty soon our home will be deemed too "riske" for visits.

For now, Pat and I are enjoying each other's company and the relative calm that comes when you lighten up and relax. We have entered our 2nd childhood, cracking each other up with all our bathroom humour. Funny how it becomes funny when you aren't trying to "set an example". Thank goodness we still have enough public contact that we are able to practice "respectful" behaviour regularly.

If you plan to drop by, give us some warning and we will make sure we use our "we have company" manners or "the children are home" manners. If you surprise us, I can't guarantee we will be able to switch that quickly.

Have a great day everyone - ENJOY every moment and lighten up - at least in private!

Fire Smart and Depends for the "active incontinent"....

Yesterday I was telling my brother about the Fire Smart program going on in our community. They are clearing the trails of all the dead trees/brush and preparing for another fire season (which started March 1st!). I know this is necessary, especially after the fires we had last year in May. At the same time I am missing all that tree coverage along the Sawridge Creek trail, a trail that meanders through our town. I run on that trail daily and I was telling my brother how I wished I had asked the crews to leave a few stands so I can still discreetly "pee" in the bush, something that I need to do frequently when running.

That got my brother thinking of a new line of "Depends" - ones for the "active incontinent" amongst us. We could come up with a great product that would "wick" away that moisture as soon as you relieved yourself. Pity the poor runners behind you - it won't be a friendly spray of sweat that they are getting. It might be a good incentive to be faster so you are never the one downwind.

For now I will be scoping the trail for new places to relieve myself - that was the first thing I learned to do when I started running, how to go pee in the bush! I promise to be discreet and I'll start working on that new product line....

Happy Trails everyone.

My new word....Sweezing.

Yes, I have a new word. Sweezing. Here's the definition:

Spend half the night throwing off the covers drenched in sweat. Spend the other half of the night throwing the covers back on because your sweat is now evaporating in your extremely cool house and you are shivering. Throw in a few restless moments where you are trying to decide how you would describe this feeling and realizing that after you spent more than a few moments awake going through an imaginary dictionary to find the right word - that there isn't one. As your creativity is at its peak you decide you are going to add a new word and Voila! Sweezing is born.

Next word to come up with is one to describe the feeling of having your husband snore in your face inbetween your sweezing episodes - homicidal isn't quite capturing it for me. I have lots of nights to think about this one. Let's just hope I remember to "think" about it and not act out my feelings!

Happy Sweezing everyone!

Memories of Auntie Emma......I need a Narfason group nag...

My mom's older sister, my Auntie Emma passed away yesterday. She was 89 and had spent the last 4-5 years in Betel, the nursing home in Gimli. She had dementia and for the past year and a half she was in a wheelchair because she broke one hip and a month later broke the other. For most of us, at that age, it would have killed us. But the Narfason gene is a strong one so she kept on going wheeling around the nursing home, not saying much, but she kept on singing.

Auntie Emma is a true Icelandic Canadian woman: practical, stoic and strong. The first to marry, she had four children in four years, back when keeping house and raising children was a very manual job. It was also a time when you lived on one salary, money was scarce, and you couldn't afford a car. Raised by a mother who ran a tight ship, she taught her girls how to clean well even though they lived in a small log farmhouse without electricity and running water. Emma learned from a master and her need to keep things orderly and "just so" followed her throughout her life. Imagine what that would be like when you didn't have the modern conveniences we have, the money we have AND four kids and a spouse to cook and clean for. On top of that, my Uncle Joe, her husband, worked for Air Canada and they were posted to numerous locations - one time to Goose Bay, Labrador. Emma stoically moved house wherever they were stationed and set up, helped her children settle in, found new places to shop, re-calculated what they could afford in the new location, scrimped to make do and managed to make new friends.

Like my mother, Emma and Joe packed up the kids and took them "home" to Gimli so they could see family and get to know their aunts, uncles and "cousins by the dozens". This was Emma's holiday and anyone who has ever gone "home" for holidays knows that it is work - especially for the women. Meals need to be prepared, space made for bedding down children, keeping belongings neat and tidy in your parents' home, helping with cleaning, looking after your children AND if that wasn't enough, you now have all your nieces and nephews to look out for as well. To add to that list you will take the children to the beach (whoever can fit in the car), buy ice cream cones, deal with sunburns, hang up wet bathing suits/towels, gather up beach toys and administer first aid on a frequent basis. I am exhausted just thinking about it.

So imagine what it would be like when you are in your 40's and your sister's children - the last of your nieces and nephews come along. Your children are grown up, you have been at this game for over 20 years, you are now faced with aging parents on the farm and your last two nieces are squiggly, squirmy, full-of-energy children. Well, my youngest sister Peggy in particular. In fact, Peggy was not only all of that, she was also outspoken and would tell you if she didn't like what you were doing. As Peggy said the other night when we were talking about our memories of Emma, "the patience was gone but the kindness was still there". As children, Peggy and I often got on the wrong side of Emma and had a "talking to", but it never stopped her from taking us to the beach and buying us ice cream cones.

But my real memories of Auntie Emma are as an adult. Because I live in Alberta and "home" is Sarnia, Ontario, I did what my mother did - packed up the family and headed east for our holidays. We would stop in Gimli as our half-way point and stay a few days on the way down and on the way back. We stayed at Dilla's house with our three children and Emma and Joe had a standing room there for when they were in Gimli (by that time they lived in Winnipeg). They welcomed us in the home, let us rest from our long journey, entertained our children, made meals for us and kept everything clean. After Uncle Joe died and Emma sold her house and moved to the seniors' apartments in Gimli, Dilla sold her house and moved in with Emma. We were still welcomed into their two-bedroom apartment, pulling out the sofa-bed in the living room and laying out our luggage in corners of the room.

Emma and Dilla always prepared for our visits - getting things cleaned, shopping for our children's favorite cereals, planning what they would have for meals, organizing teas at other relative's houses, getting schedules of what was happening in town for us to enjoy and getting the beach towels ready for our daily jaunts. And all of this well into their 70's and early 80's. There was no need for them to say "I love you", they said that through their every action over and over again.

My favorite meal is boiled sunfish with boiled potatoes, peas and Emma's green tomato relish. As soon as I arrived they would tell me what night they were planning this meal for me and the family. What a special treat. When I asked to help, Emma would say that she didn't need any help - partly due to wanting it done a certain way and partly due to wanting me to relax and enjoy. I loved them both for this gesture and knew I was "home" with them.

Emma and Dilla kept me in stitches, without meaning to, every time I visited. One time I stopped and they said we were going to a restaurant outside of Gimli that served great pie. They argued about how far it was - one said 9 miles the other 10. They agreed to check the odometer for the trip. When we arrived and found out it was 9 miles, the other said "no, really it was 10" due to the fact that we hadn't started at the right place. When we went into the restaurant, ordered pie (each piece was a 1/4 of a pie) with ice cream and began to eat, they both leaned forward to say to me, "you know Edith, we are on a diet." Never a dull moment!

And that brings me to the Narfason group nag. Years ago when we were celebrating mom and dad's 45th anniversary in Sarnia, Emma, Dilla, mom, Peggy and me were sitting together at the hotel lobby waiting to meet others for lunch. I somehow brought up my running and immediately, Emma, Dilla and mom pounced. They started a group "nag" jumping all over me about how I would ruin my knees, that I needed to stop this nonsense, I'd be sorry as I aged and so on. I sat through it all smiling, not offering any defence. Afterwards Peggy asked if that happened often, and I said yes. Every time I went to Gimli and stayed with Emma and Dilla, they group "nagged" me about something. Peggy asked how I could stand it and I replied that it didn't bother me, it made me smile and laugh.

Today I know why it didn't bother me, why it makes me smile. It's because of the way that the Narfason women let you know that they care about you, they are concerned about you, that they want the best for you, that they have information that may help you, that they want to protect you from harm - that they LOVE you. Emma never had to say "I love you" to me, she showed me every time I visited and let me know how special I was. Emma's life is over but her love will live on and I am so thankful that she showered it all over me throughout my life. She has left me with the greatest gift of all.

I LOVE you Emma and I will remember that LOVE is a verb - you taught me well.

Whose Memory is the problem?

I have just returned from a fabulous visit with my mom. If you have read any of my previous posts about my mother Alda you will know that she has alzheimer's and she is now in a nursing home on the alzheimer's unit. My mom is lots of fun to visit and I enjoy every moment I am with her. Even in her "grumpy" moments her sense of humour and love of life beams through. She has always been my role model for life and continues to be. Her present state has taught me a lot about what it means to lose your memory and whose memory is really the problem.

So let's get that right out of the way - it's OUR memory that is the problem not the person who has alzheimer's. Yes, they likely don't remember your name, why they know you, where they are, if you visited the day before, who your husband is, where you live, or any of the moments they have shared with you throughout your lifetime together. SO, who cares? Why is that so important? Why are we so hung up on being remembered?

It is our memory of the person and who they were that is the problem. It is because it is all about US and not them that it is a problem. And trust me, I know that is a tough thing to say, but the truth nonetheless. Let's be honest with ourselves. We are mourning the people our parents once were, we are mourning the memories we have of them and that we were people they once intimately knew. We are mourning that we are not "top of mind" and hold some special place in that memory of theirs and that we have effectively disappeared. We are mourning our own "deaths" because we often don't exist in their diminishing memories.

As a result I have done all of these things (see list below) and continue to see others do the same. It wasn't until my mother lived with us for six months after my father's death that I learned that it wasn't all about me, that my mother was a lovely person to be discovered in every moment and that by making it about her she gave me the greatest gift of all - TIME spent together. Here are some of the things we do when we make it about us and what we can do to make it about the other person.

1. Ask the person if they "remember" our name.

STOP playing guessing games. It is frustrating for the person with alzheimer's as they likely don't remember. Instead start your conversation with "Hello mom, it's Edith your daughter from Alberta." Tell them who you are and why they know you. You will be rewarded with a big smile OR a conversation starter - "Alberta! Why do you live in Alberta?"

2. Ask the person if they "remember the time when....."

This is the same as #1, a guessing game they are likely to lose. Let them be winners by telling them a story of your time together. Mom loves to hear stories of her past, where she grew up, how many children she has, the funny things we have done together, the wonderful characters who have interacted with her throughout her life. It is a great way to make a connection and mom is great at laughing at the moments that are truly funny, at laughing at her "former" self, at being incredulous when it is clear that I am "embellishing" a tad and raptly letting me entertain her. As we have spent many moments together I always have lots of stories to tell.

3. Not visit the person because "they won't remember anyways".

You are right. They won't remember your visit. I visited my mother every day for five days in a row and took her out every time. Every day when I told her "stories" about our time together the day before she would say, "I'm not so sure about that." The point of the visit isn't that she will remember, the point is that we spend time together and in that moment she is getting attention. If you saw the number of people that "hang out" by the elevator door on mom's floor, waiting for someone to pay some attention to them, you would know that the memory of the visit is not the purpose. It is the visit that is so important. Just the thought of mom "waiting" for someone to interact with makes me cry.

4. Not calling when you can't visit because "they won't remember the call anyways".

See #3 - same thing. My brother makes a point of calling me when mom is at his house for Sunday supper. Our phone calls aren't long but they are a great way to share a moment together and as long as mom is able to do this we will continue.

5. Making the visit really short because you don't know what to say.

Here is where you get to "flex" your communication skills and make your conversations/actions about the other person. I tell mom stories about "us". I make photo albums for mom that we look at together and point out people telling her who they are and how she knows them. My brother made a CD of mom's favorite music that she can dance to and we turn on the CD player and dance. I take mom out for a treat - she loves sweets and just the going out gives us lots to talk about as mom asks about everyone she sees and everything she reads on our travels. I take her back to my brother's house and we sit on the couch together and watch a movie - The Wizard of Oz is her favorite. Get curious and discover the things that make the other person happy and the time will "fly" by as you share the moments.

Memory is not everything. Moments lived together are. It is time to "step up to the plate" with our parents. It is not "all about us" anymore, it is about them. Let's get over ourselves and agree that they might not remember us, they might not know our name, they might not know the lifetime we have shared together. What a great way to create a new life, to start fresh every time and BE with each other in just that one moment, to shed our past and just LIVE. You will never regret one moment of that time and you will discover the wonderful person your parent is right now. What a great gift.

ENJOY your time with your parent - remember LIFE is short. Seize every moment.