Whatever He Says

It's four years, although it seems so much longer, since a trip to England that Paul and I took, in January 2012. Although we didn't know it at the time, those two weeks were my goodbye on earth to my own Mum, and in retrospect, I can see how God gave us precious moments that I can look back on as a very special gift.  9 years earlier  Mum had a stroke from which she recovered physically enough to live at home with supports, but not her ability to read, write, or find the words she needed to express herself. She bore this with good humour and pragmatism, and we loved her so much for who she was in this period of her life; I share this so that you'll know how much each word that she spoke meant. I wanted to share a few memories from that time, which I am so grateful to have recorded here. This is from January 24, 2012. Prayer: it is our nightly ritual; between the carers who come from Helping Hands to help Mum to bed, and Rob, who comes downstairs to put in eye drops and a...

I was thinking about "patience" today and I thought, "What could require more patience than to serve children in a candy store?" Actually, I didn't think "candy store," but "sweet shop," and my mind wandered back through many decades, to the 1950's in Alvechurch , the Worcestershire village in England, in which I grew up. There were several sweet shops in the village, but the quintessential sweet shop belonged to Miss Twitty.  The lamp post in this photograph is right in front of what used to be her sweet shop, at the bottom of Bear Hill. Miss Twitty worked in this little shop for 34 years; from 1929, when the previous owners retired, to 1963, and she had bought it in 1933. Thirty four years of serving the children of the village. I only knew her for the last 4 of her years in the shop, but they were the years I grew from 9 years old to 13--so they were significant and she was imprinted on my memory of childhood. Miss...

It has been a busier week than usual; one in which I longed to sit down and capture my thoughts in this small corner. I have glanced at my laptop in passing by, but the luxury of time to write eluded me! And although I would be tucked up in bed by now if I had a sensible bone in my body, I can't let another day to go by without putting fingers to keyboard: I wanted to talk to Rob on Saturday...I needed to debrief the emotion that unexpectedly inflamed my heart through reading Mum's letters and my journals of late 2002.  Throughout the day I looked at the clock many times, thinking of where he would be in his Saturday, over 3,000 miles away and in a different time zone. I know his routine by heart. At 5.00 p.m. here, I know that he will be putting on Bruce's lead and heading down the stairs of his flat, and out into the village for Bruce's nightly last walk. When he comes back, about 15 minutes later, he will take off the lead inside the front door and Bruce will...

By Belinda , I find myself now and again, in the middle of moments of deep joy and intense pleasure--both slightly different things, but they go together well. When I notice one, I always consciously and simply enjoy it fully and completely. I had several of these moments while in England. Some may seem ordinary things to excite joy, but that to me is the best thing about them. 1) Engaging others in the surprising of Rob, multiplied the excitement factor. I really did imagine a host of people behind my shoulder shouting "surprise!" with me. :) 2) Enlisting the support of my 26 year old nephew, John, in carrying out the plan. He picked me up at the airport and together we came up with the best way of making it happen. Sharing this with him was very special. 3) Cooking a home made macaroni cheese, for Rob, twice. There is something so intensely satisfying and gratifying about chopping and measuring, stirring and grating, until it all comes together and something  made o...

By Belinda I arrived home to the fair land of Canada late yesterday and so glad to have email that feels as though it is working at the speed of light--which it probably is! I will continue to be grateful whenever I think back to the chug, chug, chu-u-g--stop! of the internet over the past two weeks. :) I thought that I would write and journal regularly while I was away, but here I am already home and only two journal entries and three blog posts to show for an entire vacation. That seems almost scandalous. But apart from the time I wasted trying to connect to the uncooperative net, what this meant was that I was investing time in other things that I might not have done so well if I had been writing. Instead, I was being with, or doing things with, the people who were my whole purpose in being in England. I am always struck by the irony of having judged people who spend so much time recording their lives on i phones or other recording devices that they aren't actually ...

By Belinda It was a chilly and drizzly day yesterday, but in spite of the sad weather, Rob and I went out with his friends and neighbours, Derek and Shirley, to the  Jinney Ring Craft Centre , not too far from Alvechurch, where artisans making violins; handmade soaps; rag rugs; candles; stained glass; blown glass; woodwork and pottery; make and sell their wares. We looked at the beautifully crafted items and sniffed the air scented with the candles and soaps, but it wasn't long before shivering in the damp air, we succumbed to the comforting warmth of the tea room and viewed our surroundings from the windows while enjoying a hot drink and a freshly baked treat. I chose a slice of  Victoria Sandwich Cake --and I knew that Paul's mouth would be watering if he only knew! :) The others enjoyed their own guilty pleasures. As I gazed past the pond outside the window, around which all sorts of interesting breeds of ducks were scattered, I noticed through the haze, the profile ...

By Belinda A little about my journey to get here--out of sequence, but I had to get down to the most important business, earlier. :) ...In C34, the boarding lounge for KLM flight 692 on Friday evening, I connected as quickly as I could, to the free internet at Lester B. Pearson Airport, Toronto--to check Face Book. A message waited there from my nephew John, and he had given me his cell phone number to call him in case of any problems. Just then, as I searched my handbag for a pen, I heard my row being called for boarding. Usually I stock up with many pens but in my last minute rush, changing over to traveling bags, I hadn't packed even one! I broke into the airport anonymity of the man across from me to beg a pen from him and scribble John's number into my moleskin journal, handing it back with ridiculous gratitude for this essential implement, afterwards. I turned off my laptop and gathered up my carry on luggage to board the plane, bent on securing another pen as soo...

By Belinda I only just managed to get hooked up to a very sloooow internet connection. My apologies to all who have emailed and whom I have not yet answered. I keep losing what connection I am able to pick up. But here goes! I will post again about my journey later, but I'm going to start by getting right to the news I know you are waiting to hear--how Saturday morning unfolded! The KLM City Hopper, from Amsterdam, where I had landed earlier that morning, began its descent into Birmingham airport right on time, at 8.40 a.m. Down below a patchwork of  green  fields, and farms surrounded the airport, and cars and trucks that looked like toys, ran along the country roads in the spring morning sunshine. The airport still seemed Saturday morning quiet, as we sleepy passengers made our way to passport control.  When it was my turn to approach the friendly looking middle aged female official and show my passport, I couldn't help myself when she asked, "Are you here on ...