Sunday 30 December 2018

Happy New Year Foundations

Foundations for a
Happy New Year
Some people put a lot of trust in the saying, starting off on the right foot.  When applied to celebrating the arrival of a new year, who do you most want to share it with? Probably the most important people in your life, the ones you can you count on the most. Isn’t it comforting to have them by your side for important times?  
For some, family is the most important people in their life. Their presence and support are highly valued. Others count on fun to be the hallmark of the new year. Friends, dear friends make the party guest list. And so, one way of determining the foundation or base values of energetic people who stay up to midnight to welcome the new year is by noting who they choose to be with on special occasions and why. Common to both situations above is the most important foundation of all––your loved ones.
In my novel, Baggage burdens. in preparing for and hosting the New Year’s party loved ones are family, but who in the Kreshky really most values family: Jill? Joseph? Amber? Eve?

 “Can Eve stay overnight on New Year’s Eve?” Fred Wicksberg ’s tone is apologetic, as if his daughter has pressured him into phoning. “You do have a spare bedroom?”
Eve is Daniel's girl friend.
Jill greets the request positively. After she hangs up, she wonders if Daniel or Joseph knew of Eve’s interest in coming for New Year’s Eve. 
December 29, Eve phones Jill to ask if she can come over early for lunch on the thirty-first. She explains that she wants to get to know Jill better. 
Surprised, Jill agrees. She wonders what brought on Eve’s sudden interest.


When Joseph returns from the vendors with a bottle of wine to welcome the new year, they all sit down for supper. After dessert, Eve volunteers to clean the table and put the dishes in the dishwasher. Amber’s quick agreement clues Jill in. Eve has prearranged Amber’s support. Jill guesses Eve’s plan—She wants me to like her
Jill begins to wonder about the seriousness of Daniel and Eve’s relationship.

Daniel and Joseph turn the sofa to face the TV. Amber, with Eve’s help, drags some old oak office chairs from the wall so they all can sit near the screen. Jill brings wine glasses and the bottle of wine, which Joseph purchased. “For the toast,” explains Jill.
The old year marches into history. “Happy new year!” cheers with the hugs and kisses greet the new year. Joseph pours the wine and proclaims the toast. “May this year be even better than the last year. To the new year.” The fireworks on the screen draw their attention. Within an hour, all Jill’s goodies disappear. Good night wishes mark the end of the party.

“So, do you think last year’s New Year’s Eve toast came true?” asks Eve as she looks at Jill and then Amber. Eve is helping Amber and Jill prepare the New Year’s Eve treat trays—a vegetable tray, a fruit tray, and a meat, cheese, and cracker tray. 
“It’s been a good year,” says Jill.
Amber agrees. 
Looking at the bottle of wine, Eve says, “Same as last year, I see. A good tradition.” She sets the bottle down. “I think this year was the best ever. I doubt next year can beat it.” She proudly extends her left hand, wiggling her ring finger. “Today Daniel asked me to marry him.” She bounces up and down like a rubber ball. Jill catches her hand to get a better look at the ring.
After they finish admiring the small diamond ring and congratulating Daniel and Eve, Amber asks, “Why now?” She looks at Daniel for an explanation.           
“Exactly two years ago, Eve let me kiss her. She made it a very special day for me, so I wanted to do the same for her this year.” Daniel wraps his arm around Eve’s waist.
Haiku capsule:
Greeting the new year
Special time for special people
Look who counts the most

Next Blog: Passions

Sunday 23 December 2018

I Can't Sing

 CAN’T SING

I can’t sing. I know I can’t. My grade six teacher told me so. She must know because she was the coral and music teacher. Because of her teaching, our class was so good that we were to compete in some kind of finals. Another student and I were asked to only mouth the words when we went to perform. My initial reaction––Why should I even bother coming to the finals? Had to. Attendance was taken. 
My lasting reaction––don’t ever sing, not even in a karaoke bar after any number of drinks. That’s easier said than done. In a congregation or other large group, no problem. No one will hear me. In a smaller gathering, I can sing so low that no one will be thrown off by my voice.
 Once that strategy failed. I was part of a small group that was asked to sing on stage for the pleasure of those in attendance. The eight of us were given microphones, thankfully only six. When we were on stage, one of those microphones was thrust into my hands. Unlike the other person who had to share the mike, I slid the terrifying instrument close to my partner. She sang beautifully. The audience really deserved to hear her. 
Just before our fourth song, the sound guy ran on to the stage with a portable mike. He gave the mike I was holding to my partner and the portable to me. Before he left, he tapped it twice to confirm that it was working. Oh, it was working, really working. The audience heard it. They clapped. I felt like I turned bright red. The music for our next song began. As our group started singing my mike sank farther and farther from my mouth until my wonderful partner correct my hand position. Thankfully, I still remembered what my sixth-grade teacher taught me about looking like I was really singing. 
That experience formed the confident foundation to believe that sometimes what a young person is told sticks to them for a life time, or in my case for the next fifty some years. In the case of Jill, the protagonist, in my novel, Baggage burdens. she remembers what her father said to her––you’re undeserving of love. She is convinced she can’t be a loving person so she didn’t deserve to be loved.
The context of the damning phrase is when Jill was seen to be a disobedient child, not a loving child. Therefore, she thought she did not deserve to be loved. Friends later, even her husband, all who did favors for her, did it not because they loved her––she didn’t deserve to be loved–– but because they wanted to put her in debt, put her in a position where she would have  to do something for them. Favors or gifts were a means of manipulation. 

The harshness of the last words angers Jill, reminds her of her father’s angry words when he came home after a night of drinking. 
You’re not fair! Who in hell do you think you are to say such ugly things?
Her unanswered thought failed to erase the label, “undeserving of love.”
Jill’s tears try to wash away the searing condemnation.

Haiku capsule:
You know, you can’t sing
So, don’t. Only mouth the words.
Life-long branding words

Next Blog: Foundations for a Happy New Year

Sunday 16 December 2018

Black Sheep

Black Sheep

Some ideas that come to mind when I hear black sheep are: odd one, one who doesn’t fit with the rest, even ugly duckling. When referred to an individual this odd ball is usually someone who does unconventional things that doesn’t fit. Whichever way you look at it, the phrase isn’t meant to be complimentary. Other negative references might include he’s square, out of touch with reality, old fashion. However, such a person may be one to be admired instead of ridiculed. It all depends upon the nature of the group that is putting the different individual down. 
This is the mind set behind developing Joseph, a character in my novel,Baggage burdens. At the time he is seen as refusing to conform. Joseph is in the company of his mid-twenties uncles, who loved to drink, particularly at parties. Their uninhibited actions included arguing with their parents and being hurtful. Ironically Joseph and his uncle Mike were labeled as black sheep because they couldn’t “let loose at parties,” couldn’t let alcohol be their excuse for objectionable behavior. 
Both Uncle Mike and Joseph didn’t see themselves as black sheep, because they placed themselves in different company, Mike with his “old fashioned” parents and Joseph with his grandparents. Mike, as eldest son worked most closely with his parents and easily adopted their attitude of conserving your time and energy for useful activities. Joseph was raised by his grandparents. His parents died in a motor vehicle accident when he was very young. Joseph was very grateful for the love and attention from his grandparents, who were Mike’s parents too. 
Even though both Mike and Joseph successful resisted falling into the trap of self-serving actions a haunting impression stuck with them. They weren’t like the rest: they weren’t as good as the rest. That feeling that he wasn’t quite good enough hampered Joseph in trying to win the attention of girls he was attracted to. Somehow, he still felt like a black sheep, someone who was not worthy enough for a girl to want to be with. 
The saying: sticks and stones will break my bones but names won’t hurt me is not true.


“Defending my Uncle Mike often got me in a lot of trouble.” 
His younger brothers labeled Uncle Mike as the black sheep of the family. 
“Know why?” asks Joseph.
Jill shrugs.
“Because Uncle Mike never drank at weddings. He never let loose at parties. Even worse, they claimed Uncle Mike was a drag. He’d report stupid things they did or said when they were smashed. Uncle Mike claimed his parents would have found out sooner or later. 
When I refused to join them at night in the shop for a snort or two, they said I was weird, like Mike. But I couldn’t do it. I’d seen too many times how they would walk into the house drunk. Then they’d get into a big argument with their father. I couldn’t believe the spiteful things they said. Then they’d stamped out of the house. I even saw my grandmother wipe tears from her eyes a couple of times. I just couldn’t do that. Does that sound weird to you?

 “Mike had enough of his brothers bugging him. He simply moved out.”



“When I started working on the extension, I brought bagged lunches and sat at the back near my work area. From there, I admired you serving with such ease and confidence. You appeared to be having fun joking with the people in the bakery. I heard you came up with menu changes. That takes courage.” 
After only a week, Joseph quit making his own lunches so he could purchase his meals at the bakery, and he could talk to Jill. Joseph told Jill that he shared his impressions about her with his best friend, Thomas Croschuk, and that Thomas scolded him for hiding in the background and only ordering food. Following his advice, Joseph complimented Jill on her cooking and remarked about any wardrobe changes.
“Unfortunately, I made my move too late,” Joseph confesses. Embarrassed, he turns and looks out over the lake.
“What do you mean?”
“By the time I acted on Thomas’s advice, I was almost finished with the renovations. To have an excuse to return to the bakery, I volunteered to add the moldings on the ceiling and matching trim around the windows in the dining area. I only quoted Ed a price for materials, not for labor. Ed had a tight budget, but I hoped he would accept. It was a good deal. He did. Later, at the end of November, he paid me a bonus. I think he figured out why I offered to do the extra work. Anyway, I learned through the grapevine that you and Ben were spending a lot of time together. I thought there was something developing between you two, so I gave up hoping I could go out with you. Thomas told me I was stupid to give up without trying.”
When Joseph finishes his story, he looks at Jill. He sees no sign of disapproval. 

Haiku capsule:
Unlike the others
On the outside looking in
Tarred as a black sheep

Next Blog: Can’t Sing

Sunday 9 December 2018

Can I Be Wrong?

 Can I Be Wrong?   








Admitting that you are wrong is so humbling. Maybe someone’s different perspective is sufficient to cause a rethink. Would eye witness reports from one that you trust result in an admission of being wrong? One might say that facts speak for themselves, but aren’t facts open to interpretation?  And what about taking into account opposing facts or reports? Sounds like I’m searching for a basis to stay married to my own understanding of a situation. However, personal opposing experiences that have remained unchallenged for most of your life make changing your beliefs a monumental challenge. Exploring ways to escape revising the-truth-as-you-know-it are inevitable. Now you have an idea of the struggles faced by Jill, protagonist in my novelBaggage burdens.
Powerful motivations force Jill to consider the possibility that at least once or twice in the past she has been wrong and that her mistakes caused others and herself to suffer. In one case she must face the real possibility that she won’t see much of her grandchildren unless she admits that she has mistreated Daniel, her eldest son.
In another case she is challenged to change her opinion about the kind of person her father really was. Her father, the man who frequently came home drunk and beat her up. Those experiences resulted in her believing that he was a weak, self-serving person, a mean, unkind man. And yet her mother never really left him. How could she stand him? And Kathy, her sister, the one who also experienced his violent behaviors, also portrays Frank, her father, with uncharacteristic sympathy. How could she? Jill must wonder––am I wrong.  

In Jill’s black-and-white-past-memories, she discovers information that casts a grey shadow on her long-held beliefs about herself as a good motherabout her hated and feared father.

You hardly talked to Daniel at the party. Is there a problem?”
Jill’s first reaction is to get up and walk away, to not answer Bill’s question. 
Guessing that Bill wants to help her, Jill chooses her words carefully. “I think he blames me for the divorce.” She looks down.
“So this is a short-term problem, a recent development?”
Jill wonders how much more Bill knows about her strained relationship with Daniel. She looks up and finds him studying her closely. Got to be completely truthful. If I don’t, he will see it in my eyes. He always does.
“No. We’ve never been really close.”
“And you’re comfortable with this?”
“No. Of course not. But there’s nothing I can do about it.”
“And if there is, would you be willing to try?”
“Yes.” 
Jill’s quick, firm response convinces Bill she’s sincere.
“I might have an idea.” He pauses, afraid to touch what he understands is a festering sore.
“Well?” 
Bill looks at Jill’s serious face. “You know in the Bible we’re instructed to confess our sins.” He paraphrases the first and third verses in Psalm 32. “The person who confesses their sins is blessed. The weight of the past mistakes doesn’t become an unbearable burden.”
“I should ask Daniel for forgiveness?”
“To start the healing process, yes.”
“If I remember the Bible reference correctly, it refers to confessing sins to the Lord.”
“And I would suggest that applies to personal relationships too. When the Bible refers to bones wasting away, if you don’t confess your sins, I would say that’s what is happening with your ties in Daniel’s family.”
“You’re stretching it.”
“Then how would you describe your relationship with Daniel’s family? You know, I hear you talk a lot about what Amber, Sarah, and Matthew are doing or how they feel. I never hear you talking about your grandchildren. You’ve said you phone and talk to Eve, your daughter-in-law. I haven’t heard you say you phone and talk to your son. It sounds like you care very little about Daniel.”
Jill yanks her hands free. “So what am I to confess? I haven’t done anything wrong.” Jill slides a few inches away from Bill.
“In your mind, no. There must be something or things that you did that really bothered Daniel. He either disagreed with it or didn’t understand. You need to think back to when you and Daniel began growing apart. See if you can identify what may have caused it.”
“And what if I can’t figure out what is bothering him?”
“Take your time. Think about it. Come up with possibilities. What’s important is that Daniel can see that you’re trying, that you want to fix things up. From what I saw at the party, I have the impression you really want to have more involvement with your grandchildren. Right?”
“Yes.”
“Mend your relationship with Daniel. Then you’ll feel more comfortable phoning and visiting your grandchildren. All I ask is that you think about what I said.”

“Then Alice became ill. There were tests and tests and tests. Eventually, we learned she had lung cancer. When she was hospitalized, Frank spent every minute that he wasn’t at work with her. Near the end, he took a long-term leave and stayed with Alice day and night. What surprised me is he quit drinking. Quit smoking too. Completely. No stepping out for a drag and then returning. One of the times that I convinced Frank to go downstairs and get something to eat, Alice explained his changed behavior. She said Frank was praying for her recovery. He promised God that if she recovered, he would never touch another cigarette or drink again.”
Josey says, “Yes, yes, I know. That wouldn’t turn things around. Alice said she thought it was his way of saying that he would do anything to help her. ‘He really does love me,’ your mom said. I let my bias about his drinking blind me to the possibility that he was capable of any love. I didn’t think he had it in him.”
He loved her! Mom loved him. Impossible, thinks Jill. 
“When I first saw him adopt his abstinence role, I thought he was trying to punish himself.”
“Punish himself! For what?” Jill leans forward, eager for an explanation.
“His smoking. I thought he blamed himself for Alice getting lung cancer because he smoked. Maybe that’s the case. I don’t know, but I suspected that was his motivation.”
“But you don’t think so any longer?”
“The time I saw him at the hospital, he seemed to be a completely changed man. He was considerate, caring. No hint of anger. It’s almost like he reverted to the time when he was courting her. Maybe he realized he was about to lose the most important thing in his life. I honestly think if he could have traded places with her, he would have.”
In response to Jill’s look of surprise, Josey says, “Yes. Me too. I found it hard to believe. I guess you had to be there to see it.”
Jill shakes her head in disbelief. This is not the man I knew. Maybe Josey was not in a clear emotional frame of mind to assess Father accurately.
“I don’t blame you for not believing me,” says Josey. “Maybe you’ll believe Kathy. Her opinion of him changed too.”


haiku capsule:
              impossible time,                                                                                     
                                least likely person arrives.                                                                   
                                A white knight appears.


Next blog:   Black  Sheep

Sunday 2 December 2018

Hope from an Unexpected Source

  Hope 
from an Unexpected Source








It is comforting to know that you can count on certain family members or friends in times of trouble. Also being a source of hope for someone creates a warm feeling in your heart. A more outstanding experience is, in very challenging times, when you can think of no one to turn to and the most unlikely source of hope appears. It’s like a miracle,a revelation you’ll likely never forget. Understandably most people are rarely in such desperate circumstances, but just hearing that such miracle happens is uplifting. Thankfully I’ve never been in circumstances that left me momentarily hopeless, but on more than one occasion I unexpectedly came to another’s rescue.  
Witness depths of despair. Observe the regenerating effects of being a breath of fresh air. Life resurfaces!
What a source of insight, an insight to express the draining effects of turmoil and a life renewing relief when an unlikely rescuer appears. One of the many themes in my novelBaggage burdens. is the powerful effect of hope from unlikely sources.
How dramatic can the effect be when help comes from an unexpected source? This is seen in the life of Jill, protagonist, in my novelBaggage burdens. For Jill, life hit rock bottom. Her husband divorced her. She had to sell her house, take a job, a low paying job. Just when she thought she was regaining control of her life another driver T-bones her in an intersection. Now, no car, no independence. No one to pick up her children from school––niece unavailable, husband gone, eldest son doesn’t answer his phone. He blames her for the marriage breakup. Only a family friend, a person who she suspects betrayed her during her marital struggle, comes to her rescue. Who could possibly want to come out of a coma to such a troubled life? 
Into this impossible situation drifts the smell of aftershave lotion, the one she bought for her eldest son. Is it possible he came to visit her in the hospital? He’s the least likely of all her children, the least likely of anyone she knows to come to see her. Does he actually love her in spite of all the faults he sees in her? What a powerful force to feed her will to live!

A familiar fragrance tickles Jill’s consciousness. What it is she hasn’t determined, but she likes it. The faint smell tempts her to take a deep breath, to enjoy its presence as if she’s savoring the honey fragrance of sweet peas at the farm. Jill knows it’s not the flower. She struggles to choose between delighting in the enchanting scent and solving the mystery of where she first encountered it. 
Eternity! Calvin Klein’s Eternity! Jill smiles.
When Daniel first started shaving, he asked his mother what aftershave she thought was nice. He explained he had a girl he wanted to impress. Together they chose Eternity. 
Daniel. He’s here
The presence of Amber, Sarah, or Matt is what Jill expected, but not Daniel. He does love me! Drawing deep breaths to confirm Daniel’s presence, Jill struggles to open her eyes. 
A white ceiling comes into view. Where am I?The shade of the white jogs her memory. Hospital. And Daniel is visiting me?
“Daniel. Daniel,” she whispers weakly. Her head turns in the direction of the scent.










haiku capsule:
              impossible time,                                                                                     
                                least likely person arrives.                                                                   
                                A white knight appears.


Next blog:  Can I Be Wrong?