In a year of losses, challenges, setbacks, and bloody bad luck, there’s something restorative in the good that still exists ?out there.? So, indulge me, dear reader, while I document some blessings that are easy to take for granted. I do this for me but I hope there’s a payoff for you as well.
Based on my feelings and those chronicled on TV and in the newspapers, I think there are only 17 people in all of Canada who did not experience some soul-stirring, heart-thumping, tear-forming rush of unbridled patriotism. Of course I’m referring to the just completed Olympic Winter Games. Millions of us were riveted to CTV for days watching this miracle unfold.
As a prairie kid I’m more familiar with the flatness of curling, skating, and hockey than sports requiring vertical landscape protrusions. But there was no mistaking the skill, training, and joy of all athletes in all sports. I remember where I was when Paul Henderson scored the goal in 1972. For a new generation, Sid the Kid has added new images to replay and relive.
So whether we had event tickets and partied on Robson Street or simply bought 10-dollar mittens and clapped in our own living room, Canadians were present, engaged, and proud. Maybe we’ve finally shed our collective inferiority complex and are now basking in the blessing of being Canadian whether by birth or by choice. Go Canada!
Our grandson Grady is now about six and half months old. For some time, we despaired at ever becoming grandparents and were thrilled with his arrival. He’s healthy, strong, beautiful, precious. The changes in him are practically moment to moment. If we don’t see him for a week, we’re lost. This little presence has the power to bring smiles, soften hearts, and restore faith every day.
We marvel at his development and remember our own parenting moments a lifetime ago in a world much different. We all wait to see his personality develop. Will he be a reader like his grandmother or a golfer like his dad? Will he love tractors, trucks, and machinery like his grandfather or will he be a city slicker? Will he be good in school or good with his hands? We are blessed to be able to watch this young life unfold.
As I write this I’m listening to the Stollery children’s Hospital Radiothon on CISN. With my daughter working for the foundation I feel connected to the process. With a healthy Grady in our lives we are aware that heartache is sometimes only a genetic accident away. As much as it hurts to listen to the stories or know Hilary has attended too many funerals, It’s even more important to celebrate the existence of a world-class facility and the miracles happening within its walls. Thank God for the existence of expertise and the generosity of donors.
Today the sun is shining, spring is within sight, and life is good. With God’s help, inner resources, gratitude, and a rejigging of priorities all will be well, from where I sit.