KADENCE TURNS TWELVE TODAY

10,11,12. She turns Twelve today, my youngest grand-girl. And I do marvel at the sensation of speed for the passing of years, since on Kadence’s second birthday I wrote this … “She is a cuddler. She comes to me with ease and climbs aboard my lap, lays her head on my chest and loves me. We will walk for long times together, her head on my shoulder as I sing nonsensical songs while she tucks into my warmth and the reverb of my voice. It’s a good match.”

I reprise a poem that I composed shortly after she was born. It has turned out suitably descriptive of the young woman celebrating today. 

DAYS OLD, SHE SLEEPS
Long awaited she came, first a wife for a son
Then a daughter for them both
A sister for their boy.

A new sight for older eyes
Another life to love and nurture.
And now on one of those following days
The two girls sleep
Gina and her child.
'Kadence' meaning “with rhythm”
Is rarely given
So Kadence with a K she is
A strident girl, a girl with a voice
A girl who will be heard
A girl who will sing and laugh
And make parents proud
And give grandparents joy.
They sleep now, one only days old
But soon we will wonder where the years went. 

And today, March 13, 2019, Kadence will fully possess each moment, posing, smiling and filling everyone around her with cheerfulness. Happy Big Birthday sweet girl, Kadence.

Remembrance Day in Canada

A NEW LEARNING
It’s Remembrance Day in Canada. I will go to the local Cloverdale Cenotaph this morning. I feel a need this year to stand with others in tribute to my fallen countrymen in past wars. A TV journalist asked people yesterday how it felt to wear the red poppy and the predictable one word answers resulted – “proud.” Whenever I have travelled internationally I have been glad for the Canadian flag on my luggage and backpack. Other countries welcome us. I am compelled this morning to visit the Cenotaph because my father was in the Canadian Air Force during World War II. Coming from the town of Hepburn, Saskatchewan, a largely Mennonite community, and himself the youngest son of Mennonite immigrants from Ukraine, he stepped out of cultural pacifism to enlist. I am proud of him for that. I am. He never saw action overseas. He was assigned to aircraft maintenance and stationed in Vancouver, Gananoque and the Yukon. Christine’s father was an officer in the British Royal Navy and saw action at sea. Both of these men are gone now. During my adult years while Canada has been involved in conflicts overseas, conscription never required my personal investment. I and my children and now their children have grown up within the shelter of a freedom that was very costly. I acknowledge that with deep gratitude today. I am proud of my heritage and proud to be a Canadian.

I still think that the dated Molson sponsored "I Am Canadian" rant is an inspiring piece of Canadian culture and I treasure the words of our Canadian National Anthem.