Robert Munsch

If you want to hear a touching story, check out yesterday's interview with Robert Munsch on CBC radio's The Next Chapter. Like many parents and grandparents, I've been a Robert Munsch fan for a long time. His books hold a special place in our family library. 

In the 1980's we lived in Brampton. That's where our three children were born. Maybe it was in 1987 that we attended a reading by Robert Munsch, at the Four Corners branch of the Brampton Public Library. It was just a small group of young families. Lucky us! 

There's the image of Munsch as a hilarious guy, a writer who really relates well to kids. His books are just plain fun. Then there's the profound Munsch, the guy who wrote Love You Forever, as a tribute to his two stillborn children. On his official website you can read about his childhood and his journey to becoming a writer. It's not a straightforward story; there were a lot of detours along the way. 

While he has enjoyed enormous success as a children's author, he also reveals on his site that he has mental health and addiction challenges. In yesterday's rare interview, he bravely shared his latest diagnosis - he has dementia. "I kind of thought I would like to do this interview as a last hurrah."  

I am full of admiration for this man. What a brave person, to bare his soul and tell the country about his current condition. There is no pretence here, just the bare facts. In a world where many are happy to share only the best parts of their lives, their happiest days,  here is an honest man who plainly states, "I have dementia."  This gifted storyteller is now unable to do what has given him so much pleasure - to tell stories to groups of children. 

While his books will be treasured all over the world, for years to come, I hope that many will also be inspired by the example of his life. In spite of many difficulties he  persevered. He has succeeded in his profession (80 million books sold in North America) and he has brought enjoyment and happiness to families the world over. Robert Munsch, we will Love You Forever. 

Thinking of Dad

 Today would have been my father's 97th birthday. He's been gone for three and a half years now. It's surprising how memories are triggered - sometimes by a date, a song, a photo, an object. Because we live in a house that he often worked on, there are several spots in our house that remind me of him and his many talents.

Last week it was a smell that brought back happy memories with Dad. I was at my childhood home. It's an old place that when built,  was centred on two big oak trees. There is still one of those trees left and this year is a banner year for acorns. (Last year there were hardly any.) That oak tree stands in front of the verandah where Dad spent many happy hours on his "swinging bed,"  watching baseball games at the park across the street. 

Because there are so many acorns this year, I googled acorn crafts and was inspired to gather acorns from home. Perhaps,  on a winter day, I may use them to make a wreath or something else. Anyhow I was there at the house, shovelling acorns into a box. Along with the acorns came some twigs and leaves. They combined to produce a familiar smell. As I transferred them into the box I felt like I was smelling my childhood. 

After all these years I suddenly had a flash of being a kid again, of  Dad raking the oak leaves into big piles for us to jump into. We had a large front lawn, so there was lots of space to take a long run, before jumping into the piles he created for us. 

It's a simple memory, nothing outstanding, but that image of Dad, encouraging us to run and jump and have fun outside makes me feel good and reminds me of how lucky we were to have him. Raking leaves into piles for us was just one of the countless things he did, to provide us with a happy childhood. Lucky us !

Want to be an executor?

 Can you revive a blog after such a long absence? I haven't felt like writing for a very long time. Now, though, with summer behind us and indoor weather approaching, it feels like time to start again. 

For months, well, almost a year now, our family has been in the process of settling Mom's estate. The pandemic has added another layer of complications over this sorry business. 

A few weeks ago, I was at a bank, investigating a complication with one of Mom's accounts. The person serving me frequently deals with estate matters. I asked her if she had ever been the executor of someone's will. She immediately answered,  "No, I haven't, but I think it's one of the worst things that can happen to someone." She's not far off. 

Have you ever had someone casually say to you. "I hope you don't mind but we did our wills and I put you down as executor. You don't mind do you?"  Or, "We were thinking of naming you as executor, That's okay isn't it? "

The thing is, the person asking you this favour has probably never been anyone's executor themselves. They have no idea what it entails. Some people actually think it is an honour to name someone as executor and/or power of attorney for property or business. Acting as Power of Attorney for business or property could take years, if you are acting for a relative with dementia, who lives a long time in that state. The position of executor is not an honour. It is a job! 

When thinking of who to ask to be your executor you should consider the person's abilities. Are they organized? Do they possess good communication skills - verbally, as well as with written correspondence?Do you want your executor to act on their own or are you thinking of naming a couple of executors to work together? Does the person you are thinking of, have the time required to devote to this job? 

For the past year I have held this position, along with two of my siblings. To settle an estate you have to deal with the funeral home, your family members, the Canadian government, the Ontario government, and the municipal government for starters.  We have also consulted with appraisers, an arborist, an accountant, real estate agents, banks, and of course lawyers. I've probably forgotten others. Besides the hundreds of emails, there are meetings, phone calls and  paperwork to keep track of. Along with the legalities involved, there are the more mundane but necessary discussions about the distribution of furniture, family heirlooms and just plain stuff. 

As we near the end of this draining year, I look forward to next year and the years after that. With my position as executor behind me, my time will be my own, to spend as I wish. It's going to feel like a real luxury.

I got the shot!

For many people, this pandemic has been a time of boredom, of extra time - an opportunity to rest, to explore new opportunities, to try new hobbies. Many writers are probably making  very good use of this extra time away from regular activities. So, you would think that I might be finding time to write here more regularly. Alas, this is not the case. Family, estate matters and  house tasks keep my mind and body constantly occupied.  So I will not take the time here, to re-write this draft which I composed a while ago. I humbly offer it, as a tiny glimpse into our busy lives at this stressful time.

Years from now, will  the images, the tensions of this troubled pandemic time leave us? Will we forget the intensity of this time? Or will we, for the rest of our lives, live with the knowledge that a virus can turn our lives upside down, at very short notice? 

While clearing up my assorted notes from this past week, I came across the health card information for 4 families. That's because I spent part of last weekend (March 20) and much of this past Monday (March 22nd) on the phone and laptop, trying to secure vaccine appointments for ourselves and others. Securing an appointment to get a vaccine is like winning the lottery these days.

Last weekend Norah told us about the pharmacy program. Although the websites said it was only for 60 to 64 year olds, she heard that many of her friends' parents had scored appointments. She called incessantly and actually got us an appointment  at a No Frills grocery store in Toronto! While we were grateful to have those appointments, we didn't relish the drive to Toronto and a hotel stay. While we would have wanted to visit our Toronto grandchildren, they were in isolation because of a covid case at their school. It would have been a distanced driveway visit at best.

I spent much of Saturday calling the other pharmacies taking part in the program. (Doug Ford, in his wisdom, set up this program in and around Kingston, Toronto and Windsor. As a Brampton friend pointed out to me, Peel, one of the hardest hit areas, was not given that opportunity. How was the choice of locations made? ) When I called the pharmacies, their messages usually said something like, "If you are 60 or over and live, work or study in Ontario, you are eligible to make an appointment. " So that's what we did. 

Monday was a marathon morning. At 7, I tried once again to snag a camping spot at Sandbanks but of course, came up empty-handed. Camping spots are another covid must have! At 8, I started calling our local health unit to try for an appointment for a friend over 75. It was the first day for that age group in Ontario. By 8:25 I was successful! There was some frustration involved but also some good luck.

At 8:30 I started calling two Kingston pharmacies that had been closed on the weekend. After about an hour I got a real live person who took my email address and promised to send a link. Again, there was some frustration with that website but magically, I was able to secure two appointments for Wednesday!

Then it was back on the phone to No Frills, to cancel our Toronto appointments. They allowed me to transfer those appointments to my Oakville cousin. By the time I finished, about 1:30, I felt like I had scored a home run. Along with my extended phone/laptop activity we also babysat  toddler Lauren for an hour and a half, while her Dad went to a dental appointment. Eliza, was at home in Toronto because of a covid case at her school. There was no online learning available so we had a zoom meeting with her for about an hour while we read Amelia Bedelia books together. It was an action-packed morning!

And so, on Wednesday, March 24th, we drove to Kingston, went into one of the world's smallest pharmacies and were vaccinated! 

Is it fair that we did this? Should we have waited?  At the time we just jumped on the available bandwagon and went for it. Do we deserve this more than others? No. This is yet another one of the many moral dilemmas that we all face in these uncertain times: Should we go there? Should I tell him to pull his mask up over his nose? Do we go into the house while they are there? Should we ask her to move over? Should we invite another couple to sit on our verandah? 

Fast forward to today, April 11th. Most of our siblings and friends have either been vaccinated or have appointments. It gives us a feeling of slight optimism. However, there are the troubling stories of vaccinated people testing positive, long after receiving their shots. And so, the reminders that a vaccination is just one part of the armour, along with masking and distancing. 

At my mother's home we go through a group of items a week. One week it might be the china and silver. Last week it was records, cds, religious articles and some framed photos. We settle our choices over zoom meetings -  a slow process, certainly not as efficient or satisfying as a real meeting.  It is sometimes surprising, which articles conjure up memories and the feelings of loss. It is not necessarily the fancy china or silver. Sometimes it is a worn casserole dish that lost its matching lid many years ago. But Mom used that dish forever and so it has elevated status in our hearts.

And so I feel like I am living under two clouds  - the ever-present, oppressive pandemic plus the sad and challenging task of grieving and settling Mom's estate. I look forward to the days when both situations are finished, resolved, over. Then I will relax and get on with my new life. 

Pandemic Priorities

 I'm pleased to have this piece published in today's Ottawa Citizen. Click here to read What the pandemic taught me about priorities.

While we are missing our Toronto grandchildren, we are also aware of just how fortunate we are, to have them in our lives. 

Mom's last gift

Well, it's February already - a little late to be writing about Christmas! But I will, because just yesterday I starting using my last Christmas present from Mom - a new pair of knee socks!

 I always remember that special feeling, of walking down the stairs on Christmas morning. It really was magical. The house looked perfect  - everything had been tidied up. Our Christmas stockings, hung by the fireplace,  were bulging - always with nuts and oranges at the bottom. Piles of presents awaited us under the tree. There were one or two years when we found Mom asleep on the living room sofa; too tired to go upstairs when she had finally finished all her work. I think that many women would agree that much of the Christmas work falls to mothers. That was certainly the case in our house. Sure, Dad was part of it all, but it was Mom who did most of the Christmas shopping, wrapping, cooking, baking, meal planning and decorating  There are six children in our family so she was busy. At Christmas time she went into overdrive.

After opening our presents we were dressed up and hustled off to church. While we played with our new toys in the afternoon, Mom prepared Christmas dinner. For many years our cousins joined us for dinner. There were eleven kids in their family. So there were always over twenty of us for dinner. Many years it was closer to thirty. 

Present giving was important to mom. She not only bought for us, but for all those cousins who came for dinner. Our other family of cousins, who were often posted in Europe - well, she sent presents to all those kids as well. It was Mom who taught us the lessons of gift-giving. Through her  example we learned  that it requires time, effort and  thought. A gift says, "I took the time to think about you, to think about what might make you happy. Then I took some of my time and money and spent that on you." The amount of money spent is not important. It's the thought and effort that counts. The gift is an expression of affection. Mom taught us that there is actually tremendous satisfaction to be gained by giving.

As Mom grew older, her present buying got simpler. For many years she bought the women pyjamas and the men pyjama pants. Here is part of Brendan's pyjama pant collection. 

In later years Mom made up a gift basket for each family. Each basket included  monetary gifts, some of her Christmas cake, a tin of  Quality Street chocolates and a bottle of Lubiderm lotion. 

Everyone received a pair of socks. It doesn't sound like much - just some socks. However, those socks were purchased with great thought and care. As recently as a couple of years ago, Mom went with me to The Bay, in early December, to purchase all the socks for the family - about twenty pairs. If I was on my own, I probably would have made a quick selection and dashed to the cashier. Not Mom - she agonized about each person's needs. If the person worked outside, they got heavy, thick socks. If they worked in an office, it was thin, dress socks. If they played sports, they got sport socks. 

She wasn't with us this Christmas but I still have 2 bottles of Lubiderm in our closet. She had already bought a few tins of chocolates in the summer, so we gladly ate one of those and talked about her with our grandchildren as we shared them around. 

For her last Christmas, in 2019, I received my pair of socks but I didn't open them. I had a feeling it might be my last pair from her. When I took out my winter clothes this fall, there they were. I decided to wait until Christmas Day to open them. The day came and went, with me still not wanting to take off the label, with her writing.

Yesterday was cold, about -18 with the wind, but I decided to go for a walk. It's been so cold and I hadn't been outside for a couple of days. I needed to give myself a treat, to reward myself for venturing outside. I just felt like new socks. And so I finally took off the gift label and put them on - nice, thick, warm knee socks. Once again, mom was looking after me. My dear mother, who dressed us, tucked our snowpants into our boots, laced up  our skates, and warmed our frozen toes with her hands after skating - what a caring mother she was. Thanks Mommy.