LIKE SAND THROUGH MY FINGERS

Jim and I are half a year from turning 75. Neither one of us feels 75……..well, most of the time. 😂 We eat well, are active and according to our doctors, are very healthy. It would be naive, though, to think that this good health is infallible. We have watched too many ‘healthy’ friends suddenly suffer from or succumb to illnesses. Thus far we have been blessed.

My feet now suffer from chronic itchiness. I so wish to travel, to reconnect with that world out there, to feel the powerful thrust of a jet as it takes off, to lose ourselves in another culture and history, to visit Christopher and Stephanie, to enjoy the ocean breezes in Barbados with Morgan and Zachary, to wander the cobblestoned streets of Europe and to gaze at centuries-old sculptures and paintings, to eat different foods, to, to, to….I need the tonic of travel and I need it soon!

Neither Jim nor I are fans of cruises ships or bus tours. In fact, we spend our trips studiously timing our visits to avoid the crush of cruise ship and bus tour hordes. Give us a car, a map, our GPS, mostly small towns, no gitchy, made-in China souvenir stands, real people, local markets and regional food. The emerging problem for us is that car rental companies don’t much like drivers over 75. I would be lying if I didn’t admit that how to get around “on our own” will soon become an issue. Private drivers and trains, here we come? 🤔

As Jim and I twiddle our fingers waiting for travel to become relatively safe once again, I feel as if time, like sand, is slipping through my fingers. We have so much planned and being realistic, dwindling time. Courtesy of our unvaccinated, this pandemic has been prolonged. For now I will bite my tongue (deeply bite my tongue) on that issue.

Maps, books and the internet have been scoured; airfare and accommodations have been booked. Move forward, I keep telling myself. With fingers crossed we dream of soon boarding those jets and curing our itchy feet.

Dear Anti-Vaxxer, Ask Yourself….

I admitted to a close friend the other day that what I have lost during this pandemic is my patience, my ability to remain calm, and my tolerance…..of anti-vaxxers. My emotions, of late, have morphed exponentially into downright disgust, hostility and fury. I find myself full of anger and I don’t like this new me. A recent Facebook posting asked anti-vaxxers to respect the writer’s decision to be vaccinated as the writer respected theirs not to. Are you kidding me? I feel a rant coming on.

One basic lesson taught in Political Science 101 is that too much democracy destroys democracy, that there are sacrifices one must make to live in civilized society. No where in the Canadian Charter of Rights does it allow any citizen to pose a danger to another. Flash alert! For the good of the general population, the federal government has the right to mandate vaccines. That from a leading constitutional lawyer! There are only two valid medical exemptions: 1) a previous reaction to an MRNA vaccine, and 2) if after the first vaccine, a patient has suffered either myocarditis or pericarditis. Oh, and a primary tenet in economic theory is that there cannot be a healthy economy without a healthy population.

Dear Anti-Vaxxer, Ask yourself what the consequences for your country, province and fellow citizens are costing:

How many family members, friends, neighbours and innocents who were unaware of your vaccine status have you infected? How many deaths are a result of your decision?

How many citizens with serious medical issues are unable to receive life-saving hospitalization and surgery because “there is no room at the inn”? How many critical hospital beds are occupied by unvaccinated COVID patients?

Given the astronomical costs involved in ICU and ventilator treatment of COVID patients and given that the vaccine has been proven to reduce risk and seriousness of cases, what unnecessary taxes is the average Canadian paying to cover your treatment should you contract coronavirus? Are you interested in paying for expensive treatment that with vaccination was avoidable? Thought not!

Do you ever consider the personal trauma experienced by our exhausted, over-worked front line workers who have been at this for over a year and a half? Actually, do you consider anyone other than yourself?

As the Delta variant has been proven to provide a higher risk to our younger population, do you ever consider the danger you pose to our children?

Are you aware that the breeding Petri dish for variants is YOU?

You have exhibited your selfishness, but are you also lazy, stupid and uneducated too? Are you aware that legitimate scientists publish in scientific medical journals, not on Facebook and the internet? On what facts are your decisions based?

I was going to request that you hold a mirror up to your face and answer honestly, but why bother. We wouldn’t be here is this prolonged pandemic if decency, honesty, and consideration of others are what you believe in. I forgot….it’s all about you!

Phew! That’s off my chest. I feel better. Rant over!

A CONVERSATION WITH MYSELF

Our son, Christopher, wrote in his most recent blog that it is of no importance should no one read his writings as his blogs are “conversations with myself”. I love that thought. Putting my thoughts to paper does give them more personal meaning. And so, I am indulging myself, putting thoughts to paper, making them real to me. Warning! This blog is for me. I will not be insulted if you so not proceed.

In 2020, the pandemic threw a monkey wrench into our planned family reunion in Barbados. Thankfully we were able to spend precious time with Christopher and Stephanie who flew in from St. John’s. For all of us, though, the phone call from Matt and Michelle three days before they were to arrive was devastating. Matt’s company had restricted all non-essential travel and they were not coming. Heartbroken is a understatement! Lost was my opportunity to introduce our grandchildren, Morgan and Zachary, to part of their heritage, their “island in the sun”, and for Jim and I, after travelling elsewhere for many years, to return to be with Christopher and Matthew once again on Bajan soil where they enjoyed so much of their youth. What we ultimately suffered was dwarfed by families who lost dear ones. Selfishly, though, the ache remained.

A friend recently told me that her desire to visit Barbados was fueled in part by my passion for it. Until March, 2020 I thought that I had lost that passion. Jim and I had not returned since 2013. Was I ever wrong!

6:00 a.m. has always been a magical time for me in Barbados. There I sat, coffee in hand on our first morning enjoying the caress of trade wind breezes, glorying in a spectacular sunrise, listening to nighttime tree frogs hand over chirping duties to daytime birds, and hearing lilting Bajan accents as my island came alive for another day. Perhaps absence truly does make the heart grow fonder, because I felt “it” come over me; an overwhelmingly potent mix of happiness and peace and a realization of how deeply Jim and I have come to love our “island in the sun”. It is an intrinsic part of us and our sons, a second home. “Oh Barbados, how I have missed you.”

Last December I contracted a viral infection, not COVID, but a viscous close cousin. In my lifetime, I do not ever remember being as ill. When you are barely able to breathe, when a walk from bed to the washroom saps every ounce of your strength, when your hemoglobin tanks, your liver enzymes sky rocket and your kidney function slows, I can personally attest to the fact, no matter how remote the chance, if you have a vivid imagination.......you are dying! Say it. I know. I wear the crown of a hypochondriacal drama Queen.

When I wasn’t sleeping which was rare, I was mentally composing letters to my children and grandchildren about my deep love and hopes for them. When I got to thinking about what travels I would miss, I stopped. Suddenly in my overly dramatic “I’m dying” state, I didn’t care about any destinations....anywhere; I only wished to return to Barbados and with my grandchildren, if possible.

A regular dose of travel dreaming is good for the soul; I have dreamed of returning since March, 2020. About a month ago, Air Canada began taking bookings for Barbados. Jim and I booked immediately. “Half way there”, we thought. Today, Matt called. OMG, he and Michelle, Morgan and Zachary are booked for Barbados next March. A second chance!

The words of my favourite song, “Beautiful Barbados”, never fail to touch my heart:

Beautiful, beautiful Barbados

Gem of the Caribbean Sea

Come back to my island, Barbados

Come back to my island and me. 

Please come back where the night winds are blowing 

Please come back to the surf and the sea

You’ll find rest, you’ll find peace in Barbados

Come back to my island and me.

OMG! Dreams do come true. We are going home!

AH, COME ON......

If you remember the scene in Love Actually when Colin Firth stomps in frustration as someone steals into the taxi he was about to take, you will know what I look like most of the time lately. My feet are aching! Better than grinding my teeth or swearing, I guess. Does anyone tell the truth anymore? Does common decency not exist anymore? Oh, oh, I feel the need of a rant coming on.

The Drumpf announced this week that Canadians wish to open the border, but, god bless him, 🥴 he has insisted that it remain closed. Yah, right?? Apparently, given our massive cases of COVID 19 up here in the great white north, we pose an imminent danger to the U.S. Ah, come on! Where is the truth? That over 80% of Canadians have pressed their government to keep the Canadian-U.S. border closed is a well published fact.

Ruth Bader Ginsberg was a revered American icon who wisely and diligently served her country on the Supreme Court. Within a mere 12 hours of her death, McConnell and the Drumpf had politicized her passing, discussing the pushing through of a nominee to fill the vacant seat. Ah come on! This one gets to me the most. Where is the decency? Can Americans please be given a chance to mourn! How repugnant and disgusting can this White House get?  Oops! That would require another rant!

Did you know that global warming does not exist? According to the Drumpf, the California forest fires are a result of the Democratic Governor not having the forest floors raked. Ah come on! The truth, please. Mr. Drumpf, how exactly should California rake 3,451,428 acres of FEDERAL land. Just asking. A 4.5 quake rattled Southern California yesterday. I am now waiting for the Drumpf to criticize the Democratic Governor with not lubricating their fault lines.

Meanwhile in Canada:

When Erin O’Toole was forced to get tested for COVID in Quebec because of long waits in Ontario, he lashed out at Mr. Trudeau for not providing speedier tests nationally. Ah come on, Mr. O’Toole can we talk about truth? I had higher hopes for you than this. The fact that you were able to be tested almost immediately in Quebec belies the fact that federally we have an issue. Be honest; you couldn’t attack your provincial Conservative counterpart; you need his support. Better to take a dig, no matter how falsely based, at the PM. More importantly, though, if you are truly unaware that health care is a provincial responsibility, god help the federal Conservatives.

Throughout the pandemic, I have been pleasantly surprised, Mr. Ford, by your strong wartime leadership. However, you lost me when you blamed this year’s school turmoil on the teachers’ unions. Ah come on! Please don’t become a clone of Mr. Drumpf when it comes to accepting responsibility. The teachers’ unions were never consulted by you or Mr. Lecce during the process. Planning for this year’s school year was left until the last moment and then dumped on the school boards with little direction. And please don’t tell teachers to step up to the plate like our wonderful medical workers. Teachers have not received years of training nor experience in wearing gowns and masks nor in dealing with infectious diseases in the classroom. As the professionals that most of them are, they are stepping up and they will learn, but with little help from your government.

Okay, I feel better. Rant over and I didn’t have to stomp. My feet are relieved.

ANXIETY AND YEARNING

How are you dealing with this pandemic? As much as I am loathe to admit it, I’m not ‘doing this’ very well. 😢 

Some days I hop out of bed, determined to enjoy the great day ahead of me. I’ve got this, I think. And then, as with this week, I feel burdened down with anxiety - the pandemic, my daughter-in-law and grandchildren returning to school, recurring COVID spikes worldwide, the future economy, the U.S. and Mr. Drumpf, the explosion in Beruit..... Can I just please crawl back under the covers and emerge when this is all over?

I have so much to be grateful for - a healthy family, a husband with whom I enjoy spending time, food on our table (albeit probably too much), financial freedom, the opportunity to read even more, and keeping in touch with wonderful friends via email, Facebook or over coffee. That I have so much for which to be thankful only adds to my guilt when I yearn for those moments I can no longer enjoy. Perhaps too often I indulge myself in remembering what I miss.

I miss travel - everything about it: the pure joy of maps spread out on the table, books piled beside my chair and an iPad humming as research begins for a new trip; hearing Jim say, Book it Dano! 😂 ; sitting in my plane seat waiting for that exciting moment of takeoff; the wonder of meeting new people, learning about and visiting the culture and history of a country, trying new foods... Sigh!

I miss my cooking classes at the Passionate Cook. An evening of meeting 11 other people, drinking wine, listening and watching Lisa talk food, and enjoying what is always an extraordinary meal.

I miss swimming and UxPool, an hour of simply being in the water, intense exercise and my swimming buddies.

I miss hugging friends and family. Let me assure you that this pandemic is unbearable for a hugger.

Most of all, I miss my family. No planned Thanksgiving in St. John’s with Christopher and Stephanie. 😢 No sleepover weekends with my grandchildren. 😢 No family dinners with Matt, Michelle and the kids. 😢

I know! Suck it up princess. Okay, okay, I’m trying!  I imagine wrapping up all of my I misses in a box. When the pandemic passes, I will be able to open my box like a giant gift, savouring more than ever and never again taking for granted what I so yearn for.

JUNE....TOO SOON

As I watch Tropical Storm Cristobal work her way up the Gulf of Mexico, I am reminded of an old Caribbean poem:

June too soon

July stand by

August you must

September remember

October all over

This year in Barbados, as sands transported over 5000 miles from the Sahara Desert on bursts of strong winds, left a thin layer of dust everywhere and created breathtaking sunsets, I remembered 2001 when we last experienced this phenomenon on our island in the sun. My cousin, Michael, predicted a severe hurricane season that year. When questioned why, he explained that the hot layer of air spinning off the African continent increased the chance of vertical wind shears and thus hurricanes; the dust was evidence of those potent wind bursts. He added that Barbadians from years past, without understanding the meteorological reasons, would predict a year of bad storms when Saharan dust arrived in the spring. Hurricane Michelle Category 4 in November (yes, as late as November) 2001, moving slowly and stalling frequently, left widespread devastation over Central America and the Caribbean. One of the worst storms in Caribbean history.

The day after a glorious Bajan evening of pink skies, I commented to our apartment manager, Christina, about how beautiful the evening had been.

Christina: Sand from the Sahara is in the air. Be ready for a day of dust.

Moi: Bad hurricane season?

Christina: For sure!

Three named storms this year before June 7 and the NOAA’s 2020 prediction of an above-normal severe hurricane season sure lend legitimacy to those Caribbean wisdoms of yore.

Now, should we discuss Gramma’s chicken soup cure-all? 😂 

CAN I START AN AVALANCHE?

At least that can’t happen in Canada. How smug we Canadians are, me included, as we sit in the great white north witnessing the violent riots south of the border and passing judgement on our neighbours. Don’t rush to pat yourself on your self-righteous Canadian back yet or believe that racism does not exist here, that we are a nation of absolute cultural tolerance, because we most definitely are not.

😡 May I remind you of the Asian front-line ER nurse who was recently spat on and verbally assaulted.....by a 60-year old white woman.

😡 May I remind you of the Orthodox Jewish students who were assaulted on a Toronto Street.

😡 May I remind you of the plethora of reports of young Muslim mothers wearing the hijab who have been verbally insulted in front of their young impressionable children on Canadian streets.

😡 May I remind you of the disabled senior indigenous woman who was dragged from her vehicle and slammed to the ground by a BC RCMP officer as she wasn’t, on his instructions, exiting her car fast enough.

😡 May I remind you of the now highly successful NHL player who found himself often isolated at training camps and whose abilities were initially doubted simply because of the colour of skin he was in.

Our son, Christopher, is one of the most liberal, accepting, open-minded people I know; he is my inspiration. As a teen, alone on his way to meet friends, Christopher was crossing the foot bridge from Ontario Place to the CNE. Approaching him from the opposite direction and pointing at him were four black youth. For a flicker of a second Christopher wondered if he should be concerned about his personal safety. Worried, that is, until the young men hugged him and cheered, Yeah Barbados, Mon”. On Christopher’s t-shirt was the Bajan flag. Would Christopher have suffered that flicker of concern had the four youth been equally well dressed, but white?

This February, as the coronavirus garnered increasing concern, I stood in line for the registration desk at Markham Stouffville Hospital, maintaining the recommended 6 feet of social distancing. Fine, right? Sadly I am loathe to admit that when a Chinese woman joined her Caucasian husband already in front of me, I immediately increased my social distance by twelve feet. Why? Did I really believe that all Asians carried the virus? Driving home I was forced to admit that I was in denial if I thought that I harboured no racist thoughts. Damn! I thought that I was better than that.

How often have I been in social situations where I have heard a racial slur, but not wishing to cause any problems, have allowed the slur to pass? How frequently in Barbados have I witnessed tourists assert their perceived superiority by insulting locals because of their skin colour, but have not called out the racist?

My actions are not good enough.......not any more. If I ignore intolerance, if I don’t stand up to it, it won’t simply vanish. Racism and cultural intolerance will only fester and grow if I bury my head in the sand. Masai Ujiri, President of the Raptors stated today that, to overcome racism we must raise our voices.

A very wise friend once told me that, it just takes a pebble to start an avalanche. I need to be a pebble. I need to root out the latent intolerance which exists in my psyche and I need to call out racism and intolerance when I see and hear it. Want to help me start an avalanche?