what are the tears for?

All of a sudden, seemingly out of no where, salty, warm, comforting tears began to stream down my cheek. My stomach muscles were contracting at the same time, pushing the soft sobs in an upward motion out through my vocal chords to the still night air inside my old Buick Century. I was stopped at a red light. I was aware of the stares from the handsome man inside the rather large Dodge Ram truck stopped beside my car. I didn't care. I let the sobs come freely and with force. They didn't stop when the light turned green. In fact, they continued for a long while. "Why?," I pondered.

Just moments before I had attended my first book reading/interview at our local library by my new favourite Canadian author, Susanna Kearsley, whom I wrote about here.
I walked away in awe of this incredible woman. Not only is she a gifted writer, but a gifted storyteller as well. I could have listened to her all evening. I didn't want the night to end. Something in my spirit from conversing with Susanna made me react in my car. Maybe the email I wrote to her will further explain:

Dear Susanna,

I just returned home form a lovely evening listening to you speak at the Whitby Public Library. In addition to being a gifted writer, you are an incredibly gifted storyteller. I could have sat and listened to you all night "spin your yarns!" There is something in my spirit that adores hearing about other people's adventures.

I was also grateful to hear how your life has shaped your novels. For me, it was like putting the final piece of the puzzle together.... Anyways, while driving home along Brock Street north, I found myself sobbing uncontrollably while processing all I learned from you tonight. I am still not totally sure why I responded in this way to your amazing talk. But, I do know it sparked that creative spirit in me which has been lying dormant for way too long.

Something about this evening made me feel alive and excited again. I connected to something. I connected to you not just because we share similar interests but because you have this special gift of bringing to life for us the reader, the stories that are alive in you. You have a special gift of allowing us to enter your world. You have a gift for retelling history. Thank you. We connect to your characters on so many different levels. I love how you care so deeply for your characters. It is so natural. I love how you are so humble and down-to-earth. Thank you.

I am still processing all I heard tonight and still processing why I cried. I do have creative outlets, one of which is my blog, non-fiction mind you. But I need to be more proactive at regularly accessing my creativity. There is so much in me that needs to get out! I think that is one of the things I took home from tonight: the creative energy in me brings me so much joy and fulfillment and so often it is squashed and suppressed. I need to not allow that to happen!

Anyways, I am rambling now. My whole point in this long email is to just simply say thank you for showing up tonight at the reading ( I did find it interesting you arrived in a taxi)! And thank you for sharing your gift with the world. My life is richer form reading your novels! All the best. I can't wait to finish, "The Shadowy Horses!"
Have a great day,

K.

Susanna Kearsley being interviewed at the reading of her novel, "The Shadowy Horses."

PS I just discovered Susanna is a cousin to childhood friends of mine. She married into the family! Her late father-in-law worked with my father. What a small world! I'm definitely going to the family picnic! hehehe!

the sparrow

Sparrows nesting in an abandoned church, Kensington Market, Toronto, ON, 2005

The words to this old gospel hymn kept running through my head for some reason. I thought I would share them with you today. May this song encourage you. (To hear Lauryn Hill from the Sister Act 2 soundtrack sing this song, click here.)

His Eye Is On the Sparrow
1905, Civilla D. Martin, Charles H. Gabriel

Verse 1:
Why should I feel discouraged,
Why should the shadows come,
Why should my heart be lonely
And long for Heav'n and home,
When Jesus is my portion?
My constant Friend is He:
His eye is on the sparrow,
And I know He watches me;
His eye is on the sparrow,
And I know He watches me.

Refrain:
I sing because I'm happy,
I sing because I'm free,
For His eye is on the sparrow,
And I know He watches me.

Verse 2:
"Let not your heart be troubled,"
His tender word I hear,
And resting on His goodness,
I lose my doubts and fears;
Though by the path He leadeth
But one step I may see:
His eye is on the sparrow,
And I know He watches me;
His eye is on the sparrow,
And I know He watches me.

Verse 3:
Whenever I am tempted,
Whenever clouds arise,
When songs give place to sighing,
When hope within me dies,
I draw the closer to Him,
From care He sets me free:
His eye is on the sparrow,
And I know He cares for me;
His eye is on the sparrow,
And I know He cares for me.

"Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in the barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? ...So don't be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows." (Matthew 6: 25,26; 10:31)

"How lovely is your dwelling place, O Lord Almighty! My soul yearns, even faints, for the courts of the Lord; my heart and my flesh cry out for the living God. Birds find nooks and crannies in your house, sparrows and swallows make nests there. They lay their eggs and raise their young, singing their songs in the place where we worship. How blessed they are to live and sing there! ...Blessed are those whose strength is in you...For the Lord God is a sun and shield; the Lord bestows favour and honour; no good thing does he withhold from those whose walk is blameless." (Psalm 84, NIV, The Message)

Out and About on a Saturday in May

I recently discovered a Canadian author who has now become my favourite. I was first introduced to her book, "The Winter Sea," by a good friend of mine. I was skeptical at first when I learned of the premise, however, as soon as I began to read this historical fiction novel, I couldn't put it down. Susanna Kearsley captured my attention. I was thrilled to learn she would be making an appearance at our local Chapters bookstore on Saturday. Without my friend in tow ( she is in Italy with her hubby) , I braved the stormy weather and experienced my first author sighting/signing.

I was a wee bit nervous as I had no idea what to expect nor what to say to Susanna. I was pleasantly surprised by her down- to- earth nature and easy way. We had a wee chat where I discovered she lives in my hometown. Then she agreed to a photo-op and book signing.
I had a lovely experience. Later that afternoon, I headed up to the small town of Port Perry to visit my friend Lisa. At one point, we toured the countryside en route to pick up her son from a friend's house. I love the barns in Ontario and had to stop for a photo - op. We are slowly losing our farms in this area to developers, so I will treasure this photo.
I loved this log cabin home where we picked up T.
Tip-toeing through the tulips!
A lovely "out-and-about" excursion on a rainy Saturday in May!

about shave

i am selfish. it is the truth. however, i think the underlying problem is fear. i am afraid to see my best friend. finally she is ready to have visitors after her breast cancer diagnosis and i am afraid to visit. she is in the middle of chemo treatments. that means her hair will all be gone. i am afraid to see her sick like this. i have been extremely supportive, as best as i can be from afar. why am i afraid to see her now.

many emotions crowded my mind when i first received her call to tell me she has cancer. shock being the most dominant. you see my sweet shave is more than a best friend to me. she is family. she is my sister, even though we are not related biologically. from that first moment we met when we were 13 years old ( well shave was 12) we knew we would be kindred spirits for life. we have a rich history together marked by pain, suffering, tears, laughter, joy, our journey with Jesus and good 'ole fun. both of us have this unique ability to sense how the other is feeling before we even utter the words. sometimes we don't even need to speak. our friendship truly is a gift. shave is an incredibly wise, beautiful, strong woman who loves her family, friends, and Jesus deeply. there have been snippets of time where i wondered how i would react if shave died. it was difficult to go to that place so i avoided it altogether. until that monday evening on January 18, 2010. our conversation is a blur. yet, what i do know is my first thoughts were selfish: "shave can't die, what am i going to do without her, how will i live without her, she is too young to have cancer (she really does look like she is 16 and i feel like i am a teenager!), God why her, etc." then my mind started questioning my own mortality. selfish. although i do think it is a natural response when faced with such a shock.

my sweet shave didn't need me to be selfish. my sweet shave needed my support now more than ever in whatever way SHE needed it. so after two days of self-pity, i made the right decision and turned my focus to supporting my sistah! i used my creativity to reach out to her in spite of the distance that separated us ( and still does)! i know she was grateful - more than she could express. she also has an incredible support system surrounding her so i knew she would be in good hands. my support lasted for a few weeks then slowly dwindled, which is not in my nature at all. i am a loyal friend.

it is easy to avoid and try to forget from afar. although shave is never far from my thoughts and prayers. i have cried many tears for shave and her family. yet, if i am to be honest with myself, i kind of like the distance that separates us. why? is it because i can go about my normal routine and pretend nothing is wrong? is it because i'm afraid to face my own fears? why am i so afraid of death when i am secure in knowing where i stand when i die ? maybe it's not a fear of death at all but rather of being left all alone on this earth with no one to care for me. ( in my head i know this is not true!) or is it because i am emotionally spent with my own family "stuff" going on ? is it because maybe shave knows she might die from this disease? apparently the doctors got everything and nothing spread to her lympth nodes. the chemo is a standard treatment precaution. so the prognosis is apparently good. however, something was up with shave when i last visited her the end of december, before the news. i can't explain it. i just know. it's that kindred spirit thing! but it did bother me prior to her news. we didn't talk about it, not yet anyways.

i needed to get this out of me. i needed to piece together how and why i am feeling this way. i need to process. i feel free to share in my space here. i know i am being selfish. i know this is about shave and not me. yet i am still selfish. i am scared.

one thing i do know for sure. i WILL go to visit my sweet shave on saturday and when i finally meet her face to face, i will hug her tightly and we will cry for a long time. then we will laugh. she will NOT see my fear. she will NOT see my selfishness. she WILL know she is loved. she WILL know she is supported. she WILL know the day is all about her. and that is the truth.