Sandra Third

My mother died on Wednesday. It’s weird to be saying this. It’s strange to be thinking about it. It’s too surreal for my mind to accept.

I never met my mother. Well of course, that’s wrong. We met at the hospital on my birthday. Sadly, I will never know what happened that day. Did she hold me for a moment, or was I just hustled away? I do know she took the time to name me, but I’ll never know how or why.

For the past thirteen years I’ve known a bit about my mom, but only a few small details. Her name, where she lives, and most important, that she has another daughter.

During all those years I’ve only seen a handful of pictures.

During all those years I kept her secret and the vow I made to not tell her family I existed.

During all those years I kept my distance and just carried on.

My promise ended on May 11 when I accidentally blew her cover.

Now everyone knows. And now Sandra is gone.

Some place in my brain won’t accept this.

Some place in my mind must think it’s unfair.

Some place in my heart is broken.

Today I read her obituary, heard all about her life and even saw some old pictures. Snapshots of Sandra when she was a young woman. A glimmer of the woman I met in the hospital that day.

For fourteen days I was Cheryl Lee Third. I was Sandra Third’s daughter.

Today I’m Tricia Barker.

No matter what, I will forever be Sandra Third’s little girl.

 

Elaine

She had the grace and elegance that made you think of women from another time. She was a force and hard to ignore.

When the cardio doctor asked me questions about her I said she could be brittle. He laughed and said, “Yes she can be.” I explained that came because she could barely see and was hard of hearing. “That makes sense” he replied.

I felt it was my duty to speak up for her. It was the last thing I would do for Elaine.

She lived downstairs and we would often cross paths in the laundry room. It’s a small apartment building so you got to know the other tenants. She was surprised to hear I was running in the civic election. She donated to my campaign and was thrilled when I won. I was thrilled with the joy it gave her.

We didn’t know each other well but always said hello in the hall.

Then one day she asked for my help. That day cemented a friendship. I never knew her well, never really knew anything about her, but she grew to know that if she called I could be down at her place in minutes.

Fix a toilet, write a cheque, talk to the landlord. Just little things. But it always ended with a joke and a laugh.

Tibetan Buddhism reminds us that true generosity is giving what is required.

I will keep reminding you that I didn’t really know Elaine. But we always giggled at life’s crazy ways. She had the best laugh!

Elaine called in a panic two weeks ago. I raced down to her place and called 911. I held her hand and told her not to worry because I would take care of things. It was the last thing I would say to her. She passed away four days later.

The truth is that I’ve learned more about Elaine since she’s been gone. She left a big imprint.

Why am I telling you this? Maybe it’s to remind myself that we all might need help one day.

And maybe even more important, I wish you could have heard Elaine’s incredible laugh.

 

 

Timing is Everything

Timing is everything.

Photography is often finding the perfect moment to take the shot. A sunrise, a gesture, a wave on the ocean, a deserted bridge. Sometimes you have to be patient to wait for the moment and sometimes you turn around and there it is.

Life’s like that, timing is everything.

We can be running out of time and don’t even know it. Randomness can be in your favour, or not.

COVD-19 has that power. Maybe that’s what makes it so scary, we can’t see it, but we know it’s lurking.

The best advice I can give people these days is what I’ve always encouraged my clients to do. I’ve helped people that are terminally ill with their bucket lists. Then at some point, as we get closer to the end, a few things become inherently more important.

And what most often becomes critical? Have you said everything you want to say to those you hold dear?

The time comes to reach out and tell everyone you know how you feel about them. Pretend it’s the last time you’ll hold someone’s hand, hear their voice or see them smile.

It might be awkward as hell. We humans aren’t built to say the obvious. But just this once, for this moment in time, ignore the fear and just do it.

Living under this COVID-19 fog, we never know when the next hammer will drop. The best way to be prepared is to say the words before it’s too late…

Go make that call, write that note, compose the text, zoom away. And don’t forget the person sitting next to you. Tell them how much you care. Don’t wait. Do it today.

If you say those things now you’ll hold that picture in your heart and it will keep you warm.

Timing is everything. Too late is too late. Regrets can destroy you.

Words can be soul saving…

They are everything.

And the time is now.

 

 

 

Say It Now

I’ve said this before but the message isn’t getting through.

I was again struck by the outpouring when a celebrity dies. A mass amount of tributes and stories takes over social media. It happened last week when Tom Petty died. If the death is unexpected the jolt is real. One day you’re dreaming about seeing him in concert, the next you’re listening to all his old songs with tears running down your face.

What always surprises me is that people talk about all the memories they have, all the moments a song has gotten them through a tough time. Maybe the music reminds them of the best time of their life.

People reminisced about what Tom meant to them.

My advice is always the same.

Don’t wait, say it now.

Tonight, go through your record collection, your bookcase, and if you still have them, your old VHS tapes. Even better, think about that special teacher or neighbour that helped you when you were a kid. Recount the times in your life when someone did something that formed your world.

Then find that person and send them a note. Do it now. Tell them how much their song meant to you or how much what they said mattered when you were in pain.

We all have those memories. Don’t wait until the person is dead and tell everyone else what they meant to you. Tell THEM.

And before I forget…include your friends and family members on that list.

Days ago the legendary broadcaster, Rafe Mair passed away. The tributes started soon after the notice circulated. As I mourned the loss, I was thankful for an email conversation years ago. Rafe didn’t know me, but for a few moments, he did know how much I appreciated him.

Tom would have loved this but maybe we should have done it sooner.

 

Charles Hillman

“Charles Hillman was a true gentleman.”

That was the comment most heard at Charles’ memorial service this past weekend.

Saturday would have been his 100th birthday and Charles would have loved the hoopla!

Charles passed away on June 28, 2017 (obituary)

In August of 2013 I wrote a blog about this great man.

Today, as I read it again, I can still hear his laughter.

 

Charles

“I wish Winifred was here listening to this.”

It was the only time during the evening I thought I might cry.

My oldest client will turn 96 next week.  A truly lovely man and an iconic Vancouverite.  Winifred was his beloved wife.  I am his personal trainer.  We met in the elevator in his building. He hired me on the spot. He wanted to keep physically fit. We laughed at our first meeting and have laughed during every workout session since.

During the past year things have become more difficult for Charles.  The aging process is horrendous and cruel. Even music has slipped from his life.  He has not played his ukulele and sang to me for months.

There is a pallor of sadness and resignation filling his room.

“I have a friend staying with me, he’s just moved here from the UK, he’s a musician and actor. I’ll bring him over to sing with you.”

Charles agreed.

So last week I got to sit with Charles as Andrew pulled out his guitar and started to play.  With the first notes Andrew sang I witnessed Charles’ face light up. And I swear I watched the colour return to the room.

At the end of that first song Charles applauded the performance and proclaimed, “He’s marvelous!”

Andrew coxed Charles to join him and before I could have predicted there were both strumming along together. Sheet music appeared and the concert began.  The joy oozed from Charles even though his voice was weak. Andrew was the perfect catalyst to make the songs singable.  They sang together for the next hour.

When Charles said, “I wish Winifred was here”, I knew Andrew had made magic happen.

It’s rare to get the chance to bring someone true happiness.

And I got to witness it all.

Goodbye Bob

There was an old world charm about him. Decent, respectful and kind.  He spoke and thought in measured tones. You don’t see this type of man around much anymore. Old school, pragmatic and honourable to the core.

And his best quality? Bob Calder loved his family.

And hockey, Bob loved hockey.

He wore a plaid shirt many Tuesdays and Fridays. I know this because those were the days we trained together and waged a war against the Parkinson’s that tried to control Bob’s life. When I’d comment on the tartan, Bob would give a little nod. It touched my heart to think he wore something Scottish for me.

I followed the Canucks so we could chat about the team during our workouts. Bob knew I wasn’t really a fan. I couldn’t wait to discuss the latest Olympic Russian doping scam with him! We had plans to compete at the 2018 Winter Games (that crazy story is covered in this previous blog Olympic Gold Medal). No doubt Bob would have had something profound to say about the Olympic committee. I bought an Olympic Bobsled t-shirt from the Whistler Slide Centre as a Christmas gift for Bob. He would have called me an idiot but I think he would have loved it.

Bob passed away on Thursday. When his wife, Florence, called with the news, I cried.

This was not supposed to happen.  Bob was winning.

I will miss him. Our time was precious and I wanted more.

A couple months ago I thought of taking a selfie of us. Then quickly realized no picture could ever capture the joyful glint in Bob’s eyes. I’ve never seen someone laugh so much with their eyes. I promised myself to always remember that magical little sparkle.

I wish you’d had the chance to meet Bob. I bet you would have liked him as much as I did.

A true gentleman.

Later that evening, after getting the devastating news and trying to come to terms that I would never see Bob again, I made a trek through the snow to Canuck Place. I thought he would approve. It was a long, cold walk and gave me time to think. I found solace in the magical sparkle.

At the end of each training session, Florence and Bob would walk me to the door. She would say “bye bye” and Bob would give me a wave.

Just like my Dad.

 

With Malice

Wherever your summer holidays find you, take along Eileen Cook’s WITH MALICE and I can guarantee you a journey you will never forget.

This is one of my favourite books of the year, but the title rated number one. “WITH MALICE” I love when an uncommon word jumps into my sphere. I’m left wondering how I can sprinkle it into my daily conversations.

If I was a book reviewer, my headline for WITH MALICE would be “Denial, Escape and Awe.”

Denial… because for me, that is a theme of WITH MALICE. Everyone seemed to be in denial of what the characters’ true intentions could be.

On a personal level, there’s denial because this summer I’m not taking a holiday break. There will be no downtime. This means my reading will be grabbed between clients, various projects and fast approaching deadlines. I’m in denial of how important taking time off is for one’s well-being.

Luckily at the end of a packed day, I was carried along by the rush of friends from the Surrey International Writers’ Conference and attended Eileen’s book launch. Even though the book sold out I was fortunate to grab a copy. There was no denial that this was being in the right place at the right time.

Malice blog 2

Escape… because I haven’t had this type of pure escapism with a book for a long time. Eileen tells a story about a girl and her friend and what might be a murder. She makes it all so believable and so very unbelievable. In today’s world you can imagine this happening but so want it not to be true. It reminds me of that saying, “Expect the unexpected.” With my life, having a few hours to lose myself in a great story is as good as any holiday. Well almost… sleeping in then opting to start drinking at noon and then reading the great book would be a perfect escape.

But what about escaping murder?

Awe… because this book will become a classic. It is crafted so well I can imagine workshops in the future being based on the way it’s written. If you’re a writer and want to see how it’s done well, race to your local bookstore, pick up a copy, and start to read it now. The hours you spend devouring WITH MALICE will be a masterclass.

At Eileen’s book launch she talked about how she wrote the book. She’s an engaging speaker and her humble humour is deceiving. Luckily she will be speaking again at the Chapter Indigo in North Van on August 6. Go. I guarantee you will be inspired.

eileen chapters

With malice means evil intent.

WITH MALICE means summertime reading has finally arrived.

malice blog 3

 

 

 

 

Behind The Smile

I just got back from the doctor’s office. His last words to me were, “Now you can stop worrying.” Dr. Ho knew I had been going crazy with the stress of “what if…”  Dr. Ho can sometimes read my mind.

I hadn’t shared my health scare with the people around me. Right now it seems that everyone is dealing with some sort of loss, so there was no sense in adding in my little issue.

But this did remind me of a blog I wrote a couple years ago… and since I’m sore from today’s very minor medical procedure, I thought I would just re-post one of my favourite blogs…

Raise Your Hand

The only good thing about a loss is what it might teach you. I hate that we are meant to look for the lesson when things go bad. Fuck that. When things go bad there is nothing good to say. Bad is bad.

While you wallow, it might dawn on you how much crap there is all around us. There is pain behind so many smiles. People go through shit all the time. Sometimes it’s easier to deal with and sometimes the pain will cripple forever.

I watch myself cry each day. And I’ve done that for the last 97 days. No one else knows. The world only sees me carry on. I work, I play, I write, I even laugh. Then when I least expect it there is a flash of what I’ve lost and the tears come. My grief has become a silent pursuit. It’s not that I believe no one cares but I believe no one needs to be a witness. My story has become boring and not worth the counsel or examination people offered three months ago.

I inwardly cringe when asked how I am. There is no need to tell the truth. Lying is the way to cover the grief. On my worst days I feel anger at having to carry on and pretend all is fine. Quit asking me questions and forcing me to lie to you. Please stop. My wave of self-pity can easily turn to thoughts of hate and revenge.

When is the line, “I will never be happy again” not a cry for help but a simple statement?

So what am I learning? I am not alone. At least I’m not alone in what I’m going through. Now when I look at people I try to grasp what devastation is behind their smiling face. I can’t stop taking the extra second to search for a glimmer of truth of what is really going on inside each person I meet. What pain are you hiding? Have you had to cry today? Is your heart so broken you may never be whole? Is your loss stealing every ounce of joy? How are you surviving? And what the hell do you answer when asked “How are you today?”

One day I’ll ask for a show of hands of who is hiding their pain.

Behind the Smile Blog

A Funeral

I went to a funeral today.

I promised I wouldn’t blog about the death.

We all have secrets. We all tell lies.

I looked around the room and wondered how many know the truth.

You may think you know, but are you just kidding yourself?

Do we have any sense of what someone else is really thinking?

I don’t think so.

I know I don’t know.

Even if the person closest to you whispers in your ear… aren’t they just telling you what you want to hear?

Aren’t you doing the same?

Death is a great equalizer. And as much as I hate it, I love the clarity it brings.

Life is much easier if you don’t fear death.

Start that discussion and you might edge closer to the truth.

I promised I wouldn’t blog about this death.

But I can’t think of anything else.

I went to a funeral today.

elayne trees