A most serious loss

This blog was about things you should know and laugh about after 50.  For a few days i thought i had lost my ability to laugh and in truth, my heart is very sad.

The best humor is found in the everyday observances of life, the contradictions and comedies of people and the way they are.

I am not better yet, though I smile inwardly and maybe chuckle occasionally, my heart has not returned to laughter, which the writer of proverbs says is good medicine.

If your heart is sick like mine take time to observe the palette of comedy that is the human race. 

Stay tuned, slowly but surely, my spirit will recover but the loss that triggered it will always be on my mind.

Come laughter, come.





Drop  a pebble in the water and it produces ripples. Drop a rock you get bigger ripples. Living through the ‘flood of the century in Calgary’ made me think of the impact of ripples and waves.

Out of control like we see in Calgary, water is destructive; eating away soil, trees, homes and lives, all awash in the power of the torrent. Yet water in itself is life giving; only witness the run of sales on water when a disaster threatens.

Thinking about my life and its drop into the cosmic ocean of humanity. Does it make a difference and if so what kind of difference?  Is the pebble of my life leaving behind destruction or life?


Some things never change

One thing about growing old is that some things change very little, they might just look a little different.

A psychologist said when you get old the parent becomes the child and the child becomes the parent. Not quite there yet…MOM..in case you are reading this …but it is coming. I was out with my mom recently in a restaurant and she bought breakfast which is the Parent part..and then she started trying to attract the attention of the waitress for another cup of coffee…first the hey excuse me…I would like a coffee..followed by a grumble…then it became standing up and trying to attract the waitresses attention…I said, : Mom sit down she is coming in a minute…I wonder how many times my mom said that to me as a kid, in a restaurant.

And then there are the kids who aren’t kids anymore but YOUNG adults..which really means, what? They are too old to be called teenagers or just a younger version of adult, which really who defined what it means to be adult or even grown up. They still need you..for short term loans…and getting

And then there is me: the middle..middle child..by 9 minutes..middle of the generational pack..parents and adult children..they call it the sandwich generation.

I have always been a big fan of sandwiches personally. From the old fashion Peanut butter, which is no longer socially acceptable outside the confines of your own home and jam. That is as basic as a sandwich gets. There are far more exotic sandwiches: crab meat, avacado and whatever…BLT…almost anything you can put between bread.

So here I am the middle of the sandwich…just your ordinary PB & J..

Wounded hearts

A season of life can be measured by time or by pain; sometimes both concurrently. It seems no one is immune from pain or the uncertainty of life, at whatever stage.

Whatever a man sows, he reaps. (St.Paul)  Sowing is wild, sometimes indiscriminate and other times, intentional. Reaping, alternatively can bring immense joy or painful regret. Those who posit regret as a wasted emotion maybe true however regret is real. It represents holding the results of your sowing in your hand and measuring them against your values and perspective.

I have learned not to judge or moralize even if this post seems I am doing both. i am 52 now and it seems that learning about life is a life long journey, no one arrives.

So i journey on. Writing is therapy and i sure need therapy. So expect more writing.


In the words of a broken heart its just emotion

There is no stronger emotion than love. Our world seems filled at times with emotions like hatred, envy and rage which are passionate and destructive. We turn on our computers and see one more story about murder, Palestine and Israel, another random shooting or broken relationship. All reminders of passion gone a muck.

I think our hearts long for love. It has authored countless songs of passion, love and loss. As the Bee Gees sang, ‘in the words of a broken heart its just emotion’.  Love makes the world make sense, it makes life make sense and when you find it and lose it and wonder if it will ever be there again, you could probably write your own love song, with your own words, your own names, your own memories.

I remember a friend preaching a sermon about Jesus passing by a crowd and he said, “Love passes by …and you must reach out to that love” Otherwise you live with a broken heart…and an unfilled emptiness.

Love: strange and fickle, deep and rewarding, rare and sweet. there is nothing like true love and nothing worse than its loss.



Rock, pebbles, sand, water……

That seems like a recipe for a five year old having fun on a summer day.

The problem is we aren’t five anymore. We grow up or at least we grow older. Hopefully both. This analogy is really overdone..just google it; however it still holds some way of measuring what is important.

Rocks fill jar first..Relationships, family, God…

Pebbles…work, volunteering.

Sand..the myriad of distracting things that SOMETIMES have to be done, not as much as we think..and like sinking sand, can sink us from accomplishing the big rock things.

Water…everything else..that flows through our hands or around us..not all can be grasped nor should be, it is just there.

Another spin on this is how you would prioritize these things at different stages of life..not as you think you do…but try putting them in a jar as you REALLY are doing them. For example, is work really a pebble or a rock? Are your primary relationships really BiG rocks…

Finding out too late in life that you have mixed up the jar, crushes rocks into pebbles and pebbles into sand, and sand into mush…all caught up in the rushing waters of life.


I should change the name to North of 50

Here I am.  I am a terribly undisciplined writer and perhaps person. The book of Proverbs says to consider the ant you sluggard.  As much as I get that I have never really aspired to be an ant or a sparrow.

After 50 you are usually habituated to being you. We change when we have to under pressure, however we usually are who we are. Having said that, there is room to explore and change, where possible.

I have lived 52 years on the planet and am learning some interesting and painful lessons. As much as I laugh and love to make people laugh,I fear like many comedians it just covers up pain. The pattern of pleasing people and being afraid to be me has cost me a lot in life. My fear of being responsible for others comfort and future has cost me my own happiness.

So like main have experienced, pain becomes our teacher. I have decided I don’t want my fear to stop me from being me. Indecision has crippled me and I have decided that even at this advanced age, I won’t let it anymore.

The journey ahead is gaining clarity and being responsible for me. I can’t control or change anyone else, nor do I have to live in fear of disappointing them.

I can change.  I will change. Step on the ants and shoot the sparrows.