Being Thankful For Family

First published in The Oxford Journal on Wednesday, October 17, 2012, by Sara Mattinson.

I’m sitting in an airplane on a morning flight back to Halifax and the flight attendants are making their slow progress down the aisle with the drink cart and I feel like crying.

The bawl-my-eyes-out kind of crying that you just don’t want to do on an airplane. 

Not because my mother and I made this quick overnight trip to Toronto for a funeral but for the 50th wedding anniversary of my Aunt Pat and Uncle Harry. 

They are two of the five cousins that make up my mother’s generation. They are The Family. 

Harry and Pat’s three sons planned the celebration and now between them, they have six children, ages 4 to 22. All of my own cousins are growing up, some literally, the boys now taller than me. Having to ask how old they are made me realize that I am 42 which doesn’t feel possible; I am the third youngest of this generation and everyone who seemed Grown Up when I was a kid are really only five or six or eight years older than I am. We now relate as adults with a long, shared history. Talking with them feels like I’m talking with the dearest of friends.   

Aunt Mary arrived in a wheelchair because of knee surgery; she also lives in a nursing home, apart from her husband, and she was so pleased to see everyone, so surprised to see Mum and I, that tears welled up in her eyes. I thought she was going to set everyone off. After supper, while we sat together and talked, she held my hand and I could feel the gentle shake of her Parkinson’s. 

This is the extended family I grew up with, my mother’s side of the family, who lived in different cities but gathered together every Boxing Day, every New Year’s Day, on Easter Sunday and once during the summer. Ask me about family and my memories are of The Family. From these aunts and uncles comes my standard for what family is:  laughter and love, food and friendship, stories and stability. I know how lucky we are. 

The last time I gathered with them was four years ago at Uncle Harry’s 80th birthday celebration so it was imperative to attend his 50th wedding anniversary. The photo album of the wedding day was lying on a table and looking through the pictures gave me a shock. Not because Aunt Pat looks exactly the same but because there, in several photos, were Harry’s parents, my Aunt Vera and Uncle Everett. 

Aunt Vera died when I was eight and Uncle Ev has been gone for twenty years and I haven’t seen a photo of them in a very long time. Then there they were, looking JUST LIKE I REMEMBER THEM, looking alive and well and happy. As if they could walk in the door at any moment.  Except they can’t, can they? 

So this moment on the plane, I’m thinking of these aunts and uncles, and how I’d rather attend celebrations than funerals, then I’m thinking of those photos of Vera and Ev and of holding Aunt Mary’s hand and of Uncle Neb making jokes about his upcoming colonoscopy which reminds me of the time 15 years ago when this crowd got telling stories about their childhoods together and Uncle Harry laughed so hard, tears streamed down his face and eventually he gave up trying to wipe them away. 

For better or for worse, we are molded by the company we keep. Some of us get really lucky and fly through life with families who make us laugh and cry, who stuff us full of food and advice, whose memories remain vibrant no matter how long they have been gone. Leaving that extended nest, whether for a home down the street or a place across the country, is not easy, especially as we get older...and the aunts and uncles get older. 

It is very hard to live far away from family. No matter how many photos and stories we pack into our bags, nothing replaces a hand to hold.  

A Sign of the Season

I've done up the last tide chart of the year for tomorrow's issue. When the paper stops publishing the weekly tide chart, it's a sure sign winter is coming. Although with the way our winters are warming up -- the River Philip hasn't frozen over for more than a few weeks in years but my husband remembers when it was solid ice from December to March -- there may come a time when the tide chart appears in the paper year-round.

What A Great Idea!

While watching CBC Newsworld on Sunday morning, wanting to see what Tropical Storm/Hurricane Sandy was up to (and learning about the 7.7 magnitude quake off our West Coast), the network's Washington reporter came on with his report on how people in the Capitol were preparing for the heavy winds and rains that are expected tomorrow.
He talked about duct-taping windows and buying up bottled water then he held up a large freezer bag.
"This is what authorities want everyone to buy, as well," he said (and I'm paraphrasing). "You fill these with water and put them in the freezer. When the power goes out, you can keep the stuff in your freezer and fridge cold and once the ice melts, you'll have water for drinking."
A concern for this storm since he'd mentioned earlier the "left hook that is unusual for a tropical storm", meaning the snow that's expected at higher elevations. That could put power out for days. 
The freezer bag of water is a brilliant idea so fellow Maritimers, take note. We lose our power enough times before of storms that this is an idea worth using. 

The Beauty of Calm Before the Beauty of Storm

A Ducks Unlimited pond

  

Cumberland County Highlands

Pretty Bird, Don't Fly Away

I'm from Ontario and my sister lives in Georgia. For us, cardinals are common. I remember walking the dog through the streets of my hometown early in the morning, even in winter, and hearing the distinctive voice of a male cardinal from a nearby tree. When we visit my sister, we listen to the cardinals as we sit outside in the morning drinking coffee. At Disneyworld last March, as we walked out of our resort early, early in the morning to catch our shuttle bus back to the airport, a cardinal serenaded us.
But here in Nova Scotia, there are no cardinals. At least not traditionally. In the past few years, there have been sightings in the Valley, and I think someone saw a cardinal in Amherst and in Wallace. Every report of a cardinal, my husband would say, "They're coming. I know they're coming."
I don't know why a man who loves ospreys and eagles is so keen on having cardinals at our feeders but he is. He's enjoyed them in Ontario, Georgia and Florida, but he's been disappointed every winter that no cardinals had shown up yet. Evening grosbeaks and pine grosbeaks are regular guests, and once, a painted bunting during the summer, but that's as exotic as our birds have been.
But now it appears his dream has come true.
"Come up here quietly and slowly," Mum called downstairs from her in-law suite the other day. So up we crept to see this lovely lady eating off the balcony my mother uses as a giant bird feeder:

"I knew they'd come," my husband whispered softly. "I knew it."

My mother promptly drove off to Truro to buy safflower seeds, the cardinals' preference. She's going to have to get a job just to support her seed habit. 

No sign of a male yet. Three days and he hasn't shown up. We remain hopeful.

Lots of blue jays, though. They must like having their picture taken because they pose where I can shoot them through the glass. 

Blueberry Fields Outside of Oxford

The way the sunlight was hitting these fields was so striking, I almost drove off the road looking at them. Had to return later to get some photos. We kept driving, looking for more fields like this but everything else was dark red and purple; this was the only field with bright patches of orange in them. Glorious!

 

A Good Man Gone

I just learned that someone I interviewed for "In Conversation With..." has passed away.
Here is the link to that conversation with Darold Kaluza and his wife Reta and daughter Donna, with my most heartfelt sympathy. I am very grateful for the hour I spent with them and for the chance to hear the stories they told about Dad's (Darold's) garage next door.


http://www.fieldnotescumberland.blogspot.ca/2012/07/in-conversation-withdarold-reta-and.html