Colin is playing Camille Saint-Saens’ The Swan at his cello recital on Saturday.  It is a gorgeous piece of music, and he plays it well.  His tuning is excellent, vibrato controlled, and he plays with emotion, just like his teacher.  I love to accompany him.  But as we were practicing tonight, I wondered what it will be like to hear him play The Swan in 30 years.  He will be 42, one year older than I am now.  I cannot even begin to imagine where life will have taken him, the triumphs and tragedies that he will have walked through, the lessons that life will have thrust upon him.  And from this place, of having experienced both deep joy and pain, loss of innocence, knowing himself more fully, and hopefully knowing God more fully, what depth of emotion will he bring to the bow on the string? […]

The winter’s cold, but the snow still lightly settles on the trees And a mess is still a moment I can seize until I know that All will be well                                                                 ~  The Gabe Dixon Band   We’ve had two picture perfect Alberta winter days in row – sunny and bright, crisp but happy.  Blair told me that this winter is the cloudiest we’ve seen in decades…maybe that’s why the past couple of days have seemed especially lovely.  The sun is the one thing that gets me through our frigid winter months.  I picture God saying, “Well, you do have to wait to plant your garden until after the May long weekend, so I’ll give you sunshine to go with that -25C”.  I’m grateful. […]

“We like to chat about the dresses we will wear tonight, about our tresses and the neighbour’s fight…inconsequential things that men don’t really care to know…become essential things that girls all find so apropos…it’s all been planned, just take my hand, please understand the sweetest girl talk…” […]

The race official’s pointer finger flexed and closed around the air horn’s trigger. I silently prayed that I would make it through the swim.  A shrill blast pierced the air and Julianna and Colin dove into the water. They were in a group of 20-odd eight and nine-year olds doing the Alberta Challenge Kids Of Steel Triathlon at Miquelon Lake.  […]

Yesterday morning, running late for a 9am meeting, I figure I can squeeze in a Starbucks drive-thru stop (since it’s conveniently located on the corner of the only way in and out of our neighbourhood). I pull in and the chipper voice asks what she can get started for me. […]

September is fast drawing to a close and we’ve settled into a morning routine now…an hour of mostly happy breakfast chaos, the snapping on of bike helmets, good-bye kisses and then…quiet. For the first time in 10 years, it’s quiet. […]

School is here.  Summer is gone.   In the opening lines of Walking On Water Madeleine L’Engle reflects, “…But there is still a pattern to the summers which I hope will never change, a lovely kaleidescope of family and friends coming and going.” This one  saw a lot of loved ones coming and going, bed linen laundering, late night grocery runs and BBQs.   […]

I’ve eavesdropped on a lot of funerals. I’m hired to play prelude and postlude music, but in between I meet the most fascinating and well loved people – through the ones who love them the most. It’s a unique way to learn how to live life well – and, reading between the lines, maybe not so well. […]

I’ve taken a bit of a hiatus from writing…anything. I’ve blamed it on the frenetic pace of family life but truthfully I’ve been avoiding it. Because writing, even just a 300-word piece, is hard work. “The Idea” might be germinating but it’s hazy, almost reachable, and then the tyranny of the urgent takes over and “The Idea” gets shelved along with the organic tomato sauce in the back of the pantry. […]