Thursday, July 29, 2010

Becky Hubbert Tribute

dbriscoeful July 23, 2010
Becky Hubbert passed away July 19th form Ovarian Cancer, this video is a tribute to her which is/was to be played at her funeral. Although it is edited from the original being played at her funeral, I hope it still captures who she was - a beautiful person who was an exceptional friend, aunt, daughter, sister, mother and wife. She will be missed by all...

Tuesday, July 20, 2010

Today

It was the best of times; it was the worst of times.
Today, I went to my mother's graveside with my father, my older sister, my younger sister, my younger brother, my daughter, my two grandchildren, my niece and my great niece. We spent some time in reflection. We remembered Mom three years ago to the day as she bravely smiled and peacefully stepped over the threshold to the Great Beyond and went to be with Jesus.


It was a good day. It was a sad day.
The sun shone down on us as Dad sat in the folding chair and the rest of us stood and sat on the concrete around Mom's veteran's plot at Mount Pleasant Cemetery in London. We laughed. We cried. Dad read a poem. I read Psalm 23 - the Lord is my Shepherd. My sisters shared special memories about the way things used to be. My brother remained quiet and pensive. My daughter and niece were the breath of fresh air and youthful exuberance as they chatted about children and life in general. The children played. Mom would have liked that. She loved family gatherings and she especially loved the little ones.

One of Mom's last request was that we remain strong as a family and that we looked after one another. It became clear to me today that that has happened. My family may be a bit of a motley crew, but our core is solid and secure and the family ties that bound, still bind us. I miss my Mom terribly and am reduced to a little girl each time I try to think of her, but I am thankful for the legacy she left behind. She taught us to laugh and to be strong. She taught us to cope and to laugh some more. She equipped us with a love for adventure and a boldness to dare. She taught me to pray when I was a little girl.


May four good angels guard my bed...
two at the foot...
two at the head.
And keep me safe all through the night...
until I see the morning light...
Thank you God...
Amen.



Good night Mom...Rest well - may four good angels be guarding your bed. xx

Thursday, July 15, 2010

Fretting Forgetting



Of all the things I miss,
I think I miss my mind the most.

Have I said that before? Probably. Humour me. Chemo brain on the loose again...

Such silly little things. Such a big ego. Today I was running an errand or two for my dear 84 year old poppa' bear.

Dad...if you are reading this, do turn away. Go check the latest family shenanigans on Facebook.

For the rest of you, I guess I am looking for a bit of sympathy...empathy...pity...maybe.

Dad had called me earlier and asked me to pick up a gift certificate from the local bistro and take it over to his friend's place. It was a nice birthday gift. It was a nice gesture. Now if I could have only found a nice way to tell him I forgot to stop and pick it up, then it wouldn't have been so bad.

I arrived at Dad's and lo and behold, I looked him in the eye and suddenly became aware that I had neglected to do the task. Panic took over and I immediately dashed out to fulfill my duty. I left Dad in a whir and uttered something about being right back. I think he is getting used to my fretful forgetful moments.

The lovely gal in the restaurant, chatted away to me and I nodded and smiled. She nicely prepared the certificate. I thanked her and dashed out the door reminding myself not to toss the gift card into the depths of my delightfully lovely oversize, teal carry on bag.

I got to my car, pressed my keyless lock on my keychain. Nothing. I pressed it again. Still nothing. I noticed the time and looked around the parking lot for anyone who might be staring at a full grown middle aged nitwit talking to her key chain.

I tried the driver's side door, just incase it was already open and I didn't hear the familiar 'click.'

Wouldn't open. I went around the other side and did the same. Panic and confusion filled any available recesses of sanity and I wondered what to do next. Then a trickle of hope tickled my inner child as I remembered that there was a telephone number on my rear window. I would call and they would pop my locks.


Suddenly I had a burst of sanity and my inner child whispered, "You dope...try the key in the lock first."

I fiddled with my keys and found the one that should have opened the door. I fiddled and tried the seven or eight keys on my chain. What was going on? None fit. I looked inside the car, and to my chagrin...I didn't recognize the tidy inners. The folded blanket. The dangling chain. I saw the neatly placed items in the little cup holders and realized that I'd just been trying to break into someone else's car.

I talked to my keychain once again and glanced around the parking lot. I tried not to make eye contact with anyone who might have spotted the strange lady trying to break into the car at the downtown restaurant.
Three cars over I spotted it. Another car just like mine with all the lights on, doors unlocked, the trunk ajar. It really was mine this time. I sheepishly meandered over, closed the trunk, slid into the driver's seat and buckled up. :)

I'm really hoping no one got me on video...small towns are great but I really don't want it to be official that I am going slightly cuckoo (yet.) Sigh.