Some times a smile can be all someone needs on a cloudy blah day.

As I walk along, I often meet people and I try to say hi to everyone. But I always smile. Nine times out of 10, even if the person does not say hello back, they will smile.

What a super easy way to make the world a little bit better for one moment. And if you consider all the moments in your day, just think how much joy you can bring to someone with just a smile.

So get out there, remember to be grateful, and smile. And the whole world smiles with you.

May I be safe. May I be healthy. May I be happy. May I live with ease.

Over the winter I unfortunately gained back about 10 pounds of the original 50 pounds I lost. So it’s back to low calorie meals and high energy exercise.

This morning I did a little bit of work around the house. Got some computer work done. Got in a couple of long-distance calls.It was after 11 o’clock and I’m thinking to myself, “Why am I already hungry?”

It was then that I realized I hadn’t eaten my usual two yogurt before I start working. Of course my body is trying to ask me why I have not fed it.

Things have been going pretty good lately. I have few stresses. Loving the weather. Friendships and family are all well. I am feeling pretty healthy and fit. Taking care of myself and enjoying moments.

I am a comfort eater. The words, I was too sick to eat, have never passed my lips. A few chips are delicious. A whole bag is wow satisfying. So forgetting to eat this morning means I have reached that good place where food is necessary for my health. Something I must be cautious not to forget. A new trend. A nice thought.

May I be safe. May I be healthy. May I be happy. May I live with ease.

I raised 3 very successful and kind children. I remarried and helped be there for 3 more. My 6 children met wonderful people and presented me with 14 grandchildren. They too are nice humans. Many ask how I made that happen. Well it was kind of like this.

Randy and I came from low income families. Our childhoods had been affected by alcholism in our families. We both quit school in Grade 10. We were married when I was 16 and he was 19. Raymond was born when I was 17. Tammy when I was 18. Robert when I was 22. I had my tubes tied when I was 23.

I loved being a mom. We laughed and played. We cuddled. I made up for all the years I was never hugged or was told “I love you”. Raymond was the best big brother to Tammy. They played together constantly with few fights. I danced and got excited at each of their accomplishments. Each morning we watched Sesame Street, Mr. Dressup, and Friendly Giant. Then it was time to play outside and just have fun. We collected bugs and garter snakes. Robert came along and thank goodness because Raymond got to get on the big school bus and Tammy was pissed she couldn’t go. But I reminded her that Mommy needed help with this new baby and that calmed her a bit.

My three children are all different. They each have their own strengths and weaknesses. Tammy was a straight A student. Ray and Rob were C+. But they tried their best and I always tried to let them know I loved them no matter what. I loved them unconditionally.

I suffered from depression and often used the children’s play as an escape. Other times I hid in books, reading for hours and hours. Their Dad often worked 10 hour night shifts as a trucker hauling pulp wood to the paper mill. Their father was always defensive and often negative. Randy’s alcholic father often found fault with everything he did. Randy was an alcholic when I met him. But after 10 years of marriage he showed the signs and effects of alcohol. Once in a while the funny, intelligent, romantic man would appear, but too often I had to come up to his measurement of caring. “If you gave a shit about me you would …..” or “I work my ass off and those damn kids can’t do what I ask!!!” But they did learn to work hard, take instructions, and get the job done quickly and correctly.

Randy had a strong work ethic. He could build anything and drive with precision and skill any piece of heavy equipment. My children learned hard work pays. I laughed, I sang off key, I cared for the garden, and orchard, and cleaning of chickens, fish, and wildlife. I took them swimming, to school events. I was a Beavers and Cub Scout leader. Randy was uncomfortable at public events. I think he assumed everyone thought little of him. That his kids would be embarrassed by him somehow. I quit fighting to have him join family activities early in our marriage. But he loved his children dearly. And so did I. And I think that was the key.

Love your children with all your heart. Teach them by example to love and care for others. Love them unconditionally. There is nothing they could do that would change my love for them. And they know that.

May I be safe. May I be healthy. May I be happy. May I live with ease.

I am not dying!!!

I seen a little blurb of this question on Facebook, and it made me think. It responded with, don’t tell anyone. You want to know who treats you well on a regular basis not just if you knew you were dying.

In some ways that is very true. I am grateful for every day I am alive. I am grateful for each day I get to share my love with my friends and family. I do live each day like I may not be here tomorrow. I make sure my children and grandchildren hear I love them often. I make sure my friends know I think of them and appreciate them. For life is fleeting for some.

I live with no regrets. I get as much out of every day, week, month, and year that I can afford to. I remember that most joys don’t cost anything and appreciate a smile, a hug, a word of encouragement.

I found out yesterday a young twelve year old died from trying marijuana for the first time. It had been laced with fentynal. I have lived 65 years. I have loved and been loved. But this child was gone before she could live a life.

Take time to really appreciate the family and friends you have. They can be gone in a second and you can’t get that time back.

When my mother was in Health Sciences Centre on her last day on earth, her brother, that she had been estranged from, came to the hospital. I wasn’t there but I was angry when I found out. Angry with both my mother and my uncle. They loved eachother. They grew up together and seen eachother’s struggles. They knew eachother better than most and yet they waited to the last moments to reach out. I admit that knowing my parents were terminal gave me time to resolve past hurts, forgive, and leave nothing unsaid. It gave my Mom and Dad a gentler passing. It gave me a gentler memory of my parents.

Please treat those you love as if they would be suddenly gone tomorrow. Take the time to ensure they feel your love. For that memory will sustain them when you are gone. Each day I can close my eyes and see my Brian smiling at me. He is with me always because every day he let me know I was loved.

May I be safe. May I be healthy. May I be happy. May I live with ease.

Just when you think that this cold weather is gonna last forever, the snow melts and hope arrives.

Last weekend I was lucky to have that chance to pick up all the dog Pooh that occurred during the -30° weather and the tens of centimetres of snow.

There was a couple of sunny days where everyone wanted to takeoff their jackets. Many were wearing shorts and T-shirts. But tomorrow it could snow. It might be slushy wet snow, but it may snow.

But I do know that that snow will quickly melt and go away. I should not have to bring out my winter parka again until next November.

For now I will continue to dream of green, lots of green against bright sunshine and blue skies. Happy spring everyone.

May I be safe. May I be healthy. May I be happy. May I live with ease.

I have experienced the depths of despair. I have layed curled up under the covers with a towel to cry until my eyes are swollen shut. I have watched my home become a disaster area while I lay on the couch or sit at the computer trying to ignore it. My mind wandering to the guilt of being a horrible housekeeper and disgust in my failure as a human. I have gluttonized on chips, chocolate bars, and ice cream. I have eaten a loaf of sandwiches to fill the empty feeling I have inside me. I have avoided people, socializing, and even going to the store. Leave me alone. I just want to not think. I just want some good feelings, even if they are not good for me.

Now that I have found my happy place, I want nothing more but to have my friends find it too. My heart has ached watching a friend struggle with depression. There is not a better feeling than to see someone who had been a quivering mess of anxiety and trauma, smile at me and tell me how well they did in handling what would have been an extremely stressful problem. For them to smile and say, “I got this!!”

When our friends have accepted therapy and are working hard to manage those extreme emotions, it is so important to be there for them. I acknowledge when I see them succeeding in putting their therapy into practice. It’s a hard journey that has so many ups and downs in the beginning. Finding the right therapist, finding the right medications if needed, and finding the positive people you need around you. And of course having to distance the negative people in your lives, emotionally if not physically. I recently had a friend smile and tell me, “My dad is going to be the same negative person he always has been. I have accepted that that may never change. And I have learned that he fights his own battles inside himself. I don’t have to let them affect how I feel about me. I am a fantastic person. I won’t let his pain spread to me. I know I love him no matter his faults. I can have compassion for him instead of anger. I can see he is starting to be less confrontational. At least we can be at the same family function and I don’t become a crying screaming mess. I am in control of me and my reactions. I love it.”

If you are on your journey to happy make sure you find those people who get you. The people or person who loves you unconditionally and will always be there for you through the ups and downs. But mostly for the ups, when you are being the best you can be. You need that support and recognition of your hard work.

If you are watching someone’s journey be the positive light, the warm hug, and the “WTG!!!” friend.

May I be safe. May I be healthy. May I be happy. May I live with ease.

My grandson once said he liked being with me because I knew what he liked to do and I played with him. I ran up hills and rolled down hills. I played with water guns and yes, screamed like a girl. We swam together and wandered together. Our imaginations taking us to magical places.

I was once in Zellers with my granddaughter Maddy. She was about 8 years old and it was Halloween. All the “Press” dancing, howling, screaming mechanical dolls were out. Of course I love to play so I pressed lots of them. Maddy kept saying, “Grandma stop. You are making everyone look at us.” But then we were looking at costumes and I was going to open a package to feel the texture of the wig and she suddenly was extremely stressed and yelled, “Grandma stop. I am so embarrassed!”

I took her hand and we went into the mall court and sat down. I told her, “I like to play. I am not hurting anyone. I am making my heart smile. I am not breaking anything or making a mess. Why are you ashamed to let me play?”

“When my mom goes shopping she always opens all the packages and I am scared someone will say something or get mad at her. I hate it.” she cried.

I took a deep breath and replied, “Honey, your mom opens the packages because sometimes parts are missing, or it isn’t exactly what she wants to spend money on. You live about an hour away from a big store. If mom doesn’t check what’s in the box, it may have something missing or broken and she has to drive all the way back to the store to replace it. So that is why all kinds of people open packages in the store. I was just going to see how the costume wig felt so I would know if I could wear it. It is always okay to open a package as long as you put it all back after nicely. The stores understand that. Any questions?”

“No Grandma I get it. But I hate everyone looking at us!” she added.

“Do you know those people? Do you see them all the time? Do you know their names?” to which she shook her head no. “Then you shouldn’t care at all. As long as no one is being hurt. It really hurt my feelings when you were ashamed of me. I was just having fun. People are meant to have fun. I love to have fun and I don’t care if someone gives me a grumpy look. I just feel bad for them because they don’t know how to have fun. Lots of people were laughing with us and smiling. You have to smile with them too. It’s time for us to walk to the movie theatre. Do you still want to be with me or are you embarrassed?” She smiled, nodded yes and gave me a big hug.

In the parking lot between the mall and the theatre I suddenly twirled a few time. “Grandma!!! What are you doing?” Maddy laughed.

“I am having fun and being silly!! I don’t know anyone who is here. I am happy. Come twirl with me Maddy!!!” She laughed and twirled with me. Then we laughed some more.

The old saying of dance like no one is watching is really true. Do all the things you want to do. I love darts and bowling, but I am more a source of entertainment for my friends because I’m lucky if I get a pin down with all the gutter balls or all three darts in the board. But I have fun. I sing at karaoke when I can’t sing. I dance when no two steps are the same. In the last ten years I have jumped on a trampoline, flipped a kayak, went white water rafting, and went sledding. I have climbed mountains and splashed in the lake.

It’s not always pretty but I think it’s because I didn’t have any kids my age to play with as a kid. I want to play with water, paint, and chalk outside. I want to build sandcastles and snow scuptures.

So get out and play. You don’t have to care what it looks like. You don’t have to care what others think. If you are having fun you are taking care of your heart, mind, and body. Part of loving yourself is to love what you do. Most of us don’t “love” our jobs so it’s really important to love your fun time. I work in a daycare with 2-5 year olds so it’s my dream job. I play all day while they learn all the skills they need to have fun and be healthy.

At playgrounds I have swung on swings. I have teetered on seesaws. I have slid down slides. I did discover at parks that other children would gather to play chase or slide with my grandchild and I. Kids love adults to join them. I have watched their parents or grandparents sitting on the bench watching them, some on their phones. They look up and smile but no one joins us. It is better in the last 5-10 years than it was, but some still would rather play with their phones than their children. And that is sad. My grandkids will always remember that we went and played. I played. I didn’t just watch. I may have looked silly to those adults sitting on the benches, but I didn’t care. I love playing.

May I be safe. May I be healthy. May I be happy. May I live with ease.

My great grandparents immigrated from Sweden in the late 1800’s. They worked building the railroad from Nova Scotia, across Ontario, and finally stopped at Tyndall Manitoba, which they knew held other families from Sweden.

My great grandparents had five sons and five daughters. Their son Gunnar, born in 1882, was the first off the train after the tracks made it to Tyndall in 1887. My great grandfather had earned enough to buy a small farm north of Tyndall. In fact or maybe fiction, I was told a man hung himself from an oak tree on the property. My great grandfather Karl Wickander had him cut down and buried right there. This property was then donated by Karl to become Tyndall Cemetery. In the family plot now lies Karl and Erica(nee Bergland) Wickander and their children Albert, Gunnar, Ernest, Arvid, Emil, Anna Lindblad, Hilda Lungstrom, Nana Wickander. Granddaughter Millie Hunter (nee Lindblad), my Mom, and great grandson Brent Hunter (my oldest brother), and Sean Hunter great great grandson.

Just like immigrants of today the Swedish families hung out together, spoke the comfortable Swedish they grew up with. My young grandmother got a job at the Swedish Club in Winnipeg. There she met my grandfather. They married and bought a large home in the north end of Winnipeg that they earned extra income as a boarding house. My grandfather was a professional carpenter and specialized in building grain elevators across Manitoba and Saskatchewan. They had three children, Millie, Alice, and Maurice. Alice never married and died young. Uncle Moe and Aunty Abby Lindblad had two daughters Cheryl and Carlyle.

My mom was married twice. Once to Lewis Vollans, my brother Brent Hunter was about 5 when they divorced and Mom moved back to Tyndall. At Louie and Sally Erickson’s my mom met my dad Albert Hunter. My brother Elliott was born and three years later I arrived.

My childhood was filled with Nelsons, Lungrens, Holmbergs, Ostholmes, and Lungstroms. Kazinas, Armstrongs, Huskos, Hurrells, Wawryshans, and Warrens. Every family knew every family in our little village. Three stores, three restaurants, hardware store, three garages, a two story dance hall, and a blacksmith shop.

On my street lived the Dolynuiks, Faryons, Sargents, Habars, Mordens, Wenzoskis,McKays, Downies, Winklers, Holmbergs, and Carlsons.

There were the bootleggers, Kisiloski, Chorneys, and Shumiluks. Women could not go into the men’s only beer parlour, so the bootleggers provided somewhere the whole family could go. Picnics, horseshoes, and bonfires. A guitar and a fiddle. Live entertainment.

At the end of this long history of my family is one fact. There is only one other person left that has known me my whole life. All my other relatives have passed on. Only Elliott may remember all those childhood characters we knew. Haywire, Weasel, Butch, Blake, Crippled Nickie, and Blind Nickie.

The little I struggle to remember is from stories my Mom told me. Some stories are from my great uncles who spoiled me when I was the only blonde blue eyed little girl they got to see every weekend. What I learned most was to share your stories with your children and grandchildren. Because sadly the information is lost and gone.

One day there will only be Elliott or I left. The last to remember getting to buy a comic book, bag of chips, and a drink on a Saturday night as we sat in the car, under the big street light while Mom and Dad were in Garson Hotel. Memories.

May I be safe. May I be healthy. May I be happy. May I live with ease.

I know I suffer from depression. I know I have to try to stay positive and see that really I have so much to be grateful for. But seriously, if this is a test of my ability to remain sane, it’s hitting a line now. My sunny disposition is getting a little cloudy.

I shouldn’t have to be paying for snow removal in April. April showers bring May flowers? At this rate April snow storms bring May flooding. I won’t get in my flower beds before June. Arrrggghhhh!!!

But saving grace this is Easter weekend. I have my granddaughters Friday night to help me remember the changing of the seasons and the wonder of my pal The Easter Bunny. Then on Easter Sunday I am running away to The Leaf at Assiniboine Park in Winnipeg. https://www.assiniboinepark.ca/leaf/lifegrows

Beautiful gardens, butterflies, and no jackets needed. A friend and I are going to wander and see the beauty, take lots of pictures, and remember the beauty that spring and summer will bring.

Just when I am ready to scream at hearing of another snow storm, I remember that Quebec and Ontario have massive hydro outages because of ice storms, and I know a little snow never hurt anyone. So suck it up!!! I know I don’t want to move. I know I love my community. I know I am blessed to be warm, dry, fed, and I have the means to care for my needs. I will take a deep breath and remember I will be in paradise on Sunday. Happy Spring Time Everyone!!!

May I be safe. May I be healthy. May I be happy. May I leave with ease.