Sunday, 30 September 2012

30 September 2012 ~ I HAVE TWO MOTHER-IN-LAWS ~ AND IT IS GOOD!

30 September 2012 ~ I HAVE TWO MOTHER-IN-LAWS ~ AND IT IS GOOD!
 

It’s two in the morning.  I just know I can’t go to sleep until this is written.

Yes I do have two mother-in-laws.  My own mum sadly passed away just over two years ago, and it was a great loss to me, as her son.  My lovely bride’s mum flew over to visit us here in Canada in the early summer.  I wrote a blog about Brenda (Grandma) and now I feel compelled to write another, for my lovely bride’s step-mum, Joyce; the second wife of about twenty years, of Jane’s now late father, Jack. 

So what does this all mean?  It means my kids; albeit young adults now in their own right, are still blessed with two grandmothers that love them unconditionally.  And yes, that is important.  Joyce Norman (aka Nana and/or Nanny) has started her journey back to England to where her life is lived. My wife, and my teenage daughters, Zoe (in college) and Alex (Grade 12) have had an absolute blast with their dear Nanny Norman.  And you could tell by the devastating heartbreak that was rife in our home when it was time for Joyce to leave.  Even my girls’ boyfriends had their hearts won over by her too.  As a father, it was a pleasure to watch.

Our son Martin, on Vancouver Island in British Columbia on the far west coast of Canada, spent almost an hour on the phone with Nanny just to say goodbye.  This, again, is a true testament to family love.  Love is, indeed, one of God’s greatest gifts bestowed on us all.

And the joy was all so simple!  We enjoyed those good old fashioned evenings of Rummy-Cub and Rumolli and had laugh after constant laugh around the family dining table.  Now, that is what it is really all about.  Not all that pretentious money driven stuff; but the simple family stuff. 

I’ve heard of those stereotypical horror stories about mother-in-laws, but I am blessed with two great ones.  And my kids are blessed with two brilliant grandparents, in Grandma and Nanny.  And it all leads to happiness and harmony and respect and love and laughter abound.

Thank you Joyce.  Thank you Nana (Nanny).  Thank you for flying over from England and spending four magnificent weeks in our home with our family; your family.  I am only sorry I missed out on the first two weeks because of being in a foreign country plying my wares in order to make my living to support your daughter and grandkids.  But I had the pleasure of two weeks of your company; and for that I am grateful.  But what makes me even more grateful is your promise not to leave it five years, like you did before, until you visit again.  I know you came close, tonight, to spending some money to delay your flight back to England by another week or two.  A noble thought on your part.   And as selfishly as we would have let you, you also realised that other family members have been waiting, patiently, for you to return.  You were welcome to stay, but you made the right and selfless choice.  Nanas have to spread their time over many people because you are at the top of the ‘love list’.  A position that is earned, over time, by acts of selfless love, kindness and devotion to others.  I tip my hat to you, but you know I don’t where one because I clearly do not have a hat head.  But if I did, it would have been tipped!

Safe trip home in this brightly lit harvest moon night as you also make your way back in these overnight skies to your England.  I know you will pass along all of the hugs and kisses to everyone when you get there.

You are not just a Nana or Nanny; with your cell phone and computer and all the other gizmos, you are clearly a techno-Nanny; savvy in the digital world that folks younger than you still find themselves alienated from.

Like a Mary Poppins, you came and left and it was all too soon.  Come back soon Nana (Joyce) because you will always be welcome here and a bed will always have your name on it.

God bless you for your delightful sense of humour and your unconditional love.  If you think, for whatever reason, that two years might be too long, then just come anyway.  Always knowing that with us, our hearts are always overflowing with love, thoughts and memories of you, you dear sweet lady.  And always know you are welcome to come back whenever you feel the need; two year, two months, two weeks or two days… we will all be waiting!

God speed, as I go to bed now, at 2:35 in the morning. This writer can go and peacefully rest, knowing that Bob will collect you when you land and then take you safely back to that place that you call home.  The home that my lovely bride, and her two siblings Richard and Helen, grew up in.

We look forward to your call in the morning to say that you are home; safe and sound.  Thank you for coming... and come back soon!

Thursday, 27 September 2012

27 September 2012 ~ ECUADOR; A LAND OF BEAUTY

27 September 2012 ~ ECUADOR; A LAND OF BEAUTY




I have recently returned from a 2-week training assignment in the city of Quito, the nation’s capital for Ecuador.  This is a truly magnificent place to visit.  Here, at 9,650 feet above sea-level, it is a whole new world to experience.
You can go on the internet and read all about Ecuador.  You can learn all about the diversity, both natural and cultural, of this nation of about 14 million people.  You can discover that there are four regions, called the Amazon rainforest, the highland Andes, the Coast and the Galapagos Archipelago; whose inhabitants of amazing giant tortoise always fascinated me at high school in my geography studies.  You can read all about the intriguing story of the so-called ‘Panama Hat’ that actually originated in Ecuador and is worn by both men and women.  In fact there is so much that you can read about this country of almost 170,000 square miles that has the equator running through its northern parts.  But how do you, as an aspiring writer, put in to words that, which you experienced, first-hand?  I can only equate it (no pun intended) to the dilemma an accomplished writer would have when trying to explain to you, in words, the flavour of vanilla ice-cream.  It’s practically impossible; you just have to lick it yourself in order to experience and appreciate it.  And that is the case for this wondrous country of Ecuador.
I was staying at the Best Western Plaza Hotel and Casino in the heart of the modern area of the city of Quito, in the region of the highland Andes, and I now have a better understanding of ‘altitude training’ that many athletes go through in their quest for sporting achievement.  Upon arrival I became aware of the lack of oxygen that my body was normally accustomed to.  The bouts of breathlessness, at first, was startling and I really did have to pace myself for tasks as simple as climbing a few flights of stairs.  Oh, but the trade-off was worth it!
I loved the mornings.  If there are no clouds, you are guaranteed a view of a most extraordinary dawn.  The sun rises quickly on the equator.  One morning, whilst having my coffee, enjoying the panoramic view from my hotel window, and at the same time watching the city of Quito wake up, I was able watch one of the peaks of the Andes mountain range get lit up by the dawn sun.  There were a few clouds swirling around the peak that changed colour very quickly with the rising sun.  Then, it was as if a veil of warm light was rolling down the mountain side as the sun rose and covered it with a magnificent glow.  It was absolutely breathtaking.
Across the road from my hotel window, on the Avenida Naciones Unidas (United Nations Avenue), was a large park; La Carolina, where I could view, at my leisure, the people and their activities.  I have seen the same juggler using the same spot in the park at the same time on most days.  About 5:00PM, on the same avenue that borders one side of the park, there is a guy bobbing in and out of the on-coming traffic trying to make a buck by cleaning your windshield… in a wheel chair!  In the park there was always some activity going on because it was such a lively place within the bustling city of Quito.  It reminded, somewhat, of Central Park in New York City; a haven within the metropolis.
At first, it was somewhat surprising to notice that people were selling just about anything on the streets of Quito; literally.  I mean, they would come up to the cars that were waiting for a green light and would offer you their wares; be it mandarins, candy, linens, ice cream, etc.  This did not seem to pose an inconvenience because some drivers would wave them over to buy a netted string of about six mandarins or whatever.  It was eventually clear to me that this is part of the delightful culture of Ecuador.
Although I was there on a business trip, I was able to have a weekend free.  On my first Friday I was able to get a ticket to watch Ecuador play Bolivia at the Estadio Olympico Atahualpamore, in a qualifier for the soccer World Cup Finals in Brazil, 2014.  As a football fanatic this was a brilliant experience.  I’m just glad of two things; one, Ecuador only scored once and two that I was located only three rows from the top of the stadium.  Why?  Because when Ecuador scored everyone, in their delight, stood up and cheered whilst launching their beers up in to the air.  Well, they have to come down; and they did, all over the fans that were in front of me.  It literally rained beer for a few moments and some of these guys were soaking wet.  Not that they seemed to mind.  They were happy their team, and country, scored and they were not surprised by what took place regarding the beer.  I was both surprised and relieved.
The Saturday afforded me the time to be a tourist.  Outside the park La Carolina is a double-decker open topped tour bus.  Once you have paid for your ticket, you can get on and off any time at any place you like because of the designated stops along the route.  This allowed me to take in some wonderful places; the Plaza Grande and all of the historic district of Quito.  El Panecillo was really nice, with a statue of the Virgin Mary, and its view over the city from the elevated hill located in the middle of the city.  But the view from El Tererifco was a true sight to behold.  You had to take a cable car up the last 4,000 feet or so to an altitude of over 13,200 feet.   I have never been so high above sea level outside of a perfectly serviceable airplane.  At such a height, even the silence is deafening.  But at least there weren’t any car horns that I could hear, just the wind.  The view from this altitude was simply stunning.  I felt overwhelmed by the beauty of it all.  But the giddiness that I felt wasn’t just from the sights and sounds; the air was very thin up there!  I actually felt relieved when I took the cable car back down the mountain and felt I was at sea level, even though I wasn’t; yet a week previous I was struggling with an elevation of 9,650 feet!  The human body is quite remarkable when it comes to adjusting itself to its climate and surroundings.  I actually felt I could breathe without too much difficulty!
To say that I enjoyed this whole experience would be an understatement.  I had the privilege to train seven true gentlemen for two weeks.  Although mostly in a classroom environment, we had a day where we took a two hour drive south, through the Andes mountain-range, to Cotopaxi Airport, just outside a small town called Latacunga.  We spent the day on a live aircraft going through a series of exercises.  Outside the hangar, looking north, was a spectacular view of Cotopaxi Volcano; elevation over 19,000 feet, and, even on the equator, the peak was high enough that it was snow-capped.  After our busy day in the hangar, the guys took me into Latacunga, to a genuine Ecuadorian diner, for some local food and a cold beer.  I don’t think that this would be something a tourist would have had the opportunity to experience because my guess is that it was not a resort, of sorts; just the local folks going about their regular daily lives.
I think that as you get older, you lose some of the courage you had in your youth.  I would not have wanted to drive around Quito because I am not sure what (if any) high-way code they use other than car horns.  I was amazed that I didn’t see one single accident.  These guys seemed to know what they’re doing, but I didn’t have a clue!
Ecuador is a country that, to me looking on the outside, is a happy place.  People talk to each other and they are friendly.  This is something you don't see too much when in a big city in North America.  I only wished that I could speak Spanish so that I could engage with the locals, and my students, more than I did.
I would love to go back to Ecuador, but I think I would prefer to go as a tourist so that I could have more time and take in the coastal area and the Galapagos Islands.  Not sure if I'm brave enough to take on the Amazonia just yet; but you could tempt me!

Sunday, 16 September 2012

16 September 2012 ~ HOLDING HANDS


16 September 2012 ~ HOLDING HANDS
 
 
A lot of good folks have emailed me to say that they’re looking forward to my blog about Ecuador; it’s coming.  But first, I would like to write about something I saw at Miami International Airport, on my journey back from Ecuador.  I had a rather long layover in Miami.  There’s nothing like people watching when you have lots of time to kill at a busy airport.

When you’re not caught up in your own world, you get the chance to look at other peoples’ worlds; albeit the view is from the outside looking in (read my blog on views).  But first we need to take a quick journey back in time…

One of the first dates my lovely bride and I ventured on when we were a young couple was to spend a day taking in the beautiful cathedral in the city of Lincoln, England.  Jane used to take the train to come and visit me in Lincoln on weekends.  The cathedral, like any other, is magnificent.  I particularly wanted to see the Battle of Britain window.  As we were meandering through this magnificent gothic building, Jane reached out to hold my hand.  As surprising as this may sound, it took me completely off guard.  I couldn’t actually recall the time previous, when a hand was held in mine.  I felt a bit uncomfortable, but I tried to hide it.  It just didn’t seem natural to me, at that time in my younger man’s life.

I’m older now, and (hopefully) wiser.  I am not some psycho-analytic babbler here, but I think I might have figured out why I felt as I did that day when Jane took my hand in hers.  I do not actually recall my parents ever holding my hand.  It wasn’t that they didn’t love or care for my sister and I.  It is just that they never held my hand.  I recall my dad holding my hand on only one occasion; we were all getting in to a Mini Cooper that belonged to his friend.  In those days you could get a lot of passengers in a Mini Cooper; no seatbelts, no safety regulations.  Mum, my sister and the girlfriend of my dad’s friend in the back, with me sitting in between Dad’s legs on the front seat.  One Mini-Cooper, six people.   I was eight years old.  I trapped my fingers in the car door and it hurt and I cried.  All the way back to our house my dad held my hand and massaged my aching fingers.  By God I wish he was here to do it for me again today.  I never forgot how much it meant to me when he held my hurting hand. 

Thanks to Jane, I am very comfortable holding hands.  I have always held the hands of our three children.  My son, Martin, and I held hands all of his young life, but sadly that ‘day’ arrived.  We were walking up to the mall to do some ‘guys’ Christmas shopping together and we were holding hands.  Then we realised that Martin might actually be too big for dad to be holding his hand.  After all, his shoe size was already three more than mine!  We had a chuckle when the thought came to us that we may have looked like lovers rather than father and son.  Society is strange, if it had been one my daughters, Zoe or Alex, it would be acceptable.  In fact it is socially acceptable to hold the hand of the opposite sex at any age; and thankfully our societal view is slowly changing, such, that you can hold any hand at any age.

So, at Miami airport, whilst people watching, the holding of hands is something that I always notice.  Airports of today are a stressful event.  But you can see both sides of love; especially between the departure level and the arrival level.  So in between the frustrations and other emotions of the travelling masses, I always seem to notice when hands are being held.  It is such a sight to behold, whether young or old. 

But in Miami airport I saw the most beautiful sight of my day.  The last passengers to deplane from an aircraft are the passengers that need assistance.  I don’t know if this gentleman working that day was a staff member of Miami International Airport, or if he was a Ground/Customer Service Agent for American Airlines.  But he escorted the last passenger off the aircraft, in to the terminal, and continued on towards the exit.  This older lady was obviously unsure of anything that was going on based on the worried and perplexed look on her face.  But even I, from a distance, could tell she was in good hands; his kind black hand held on to her fragile white hand.  They were strangers just a few minutes ago when he boarded to help her deplane.  Now they were locked in one of the most important gestures that we, as living, thinking, caring human beings, by God’s design, are all able and capable of doing; holding hands.
I like holding hands!