Sunday, June 15, 2014

Randoms on Father's Day

My dad was a Beatles fanatic.
He was an extremely gifted piano player and had a collection of sheet music (where is that? I have to ask my mom).
He loved James Bond and Dirty Harry movies. And horror movies.
His ultimate indictment of a man  was to describe him as a "jerk". Truly. He didn't swear, but jerk was the  closest he came to a complete dismissal.
He liked to sleep on a lawn chair  in the backyard on weekend afternoons. He actually did that alot the last summer of his life, 2010, every day, after his radiation if there was time.
He liked to grill food on the bbq (classic Dad thing to like, right?) Hot dogs were his favourite.
He walked every day to stay in shape.

It's been an extremely bizarre day for many reasons, one of which is that  today I  had  to learn a lesson about family and how suddenly things can change in life (it's a lesson I've learned before but apparently need constant refreshers on).
I had to learn about the 'best  laid  plans' (again) today and understand that even perfectly lovely pre-summer June days have surprises in store for us, and people's behaviour will always surprise you.
That there is benevolence all around and  even  amongst the thieves and charlatans of this world, there is a high ratio of  wonderful helpers--doctors, police, ambulance drivers.
That you'll rise to the occasion when called to, you really will.
You think you won't but you will.

I'm home now, I  just picked up a coffee, it's another endlessly long June day, filled with daylight, that makes me wonder  how we as Canadians endure our long dark winters. For me it's not the cold--it's the dark. Especially when contrasted with this overdose of light we experience and the burst of energy that comes along with it.

So that's Sunday. I promised an update and I did it. I also ran this morning,  a slow  amble with a couple of hills thrown in there, just to see if I could do it (I could).

I sweated and  smiled and felt myself inch  toward that recovery a little more with each step.

For now I'm sitting in my light-filled apartment, leafing through photo albums marvelling at how fast time has gone.

A reminder to cherish each moment, even the tough ones.

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