Music Writer: Lynda Dobbin-Turner

Give the Gift of Dreams!

2012-01-06T13:58:00.000-08:00

(link below)

Sunshine Dreams for Kids supported Shane to have his Whale Watching trip in 2004, and it was a memory that created deep relationships and lifelong memories for all of us. I decided last summer to become a Sunshine dream for Kids Volunteer, in hopes of repaying some of the joy that we as a family had been given through their hard work and efforts. As our Manitoba chapter is very small, this web opportunity looked like the perfect way to support raising some funds and awareness of this wonderful organization, and to help me to give back to something that gave us so much!

Please take a moment to check out the link, and consider giving....Sunshine supports not only children who have life threatening illnesses, but also those children and their families who struggle with long term sickness and disabilities, among other wonderful things. Although they are celebrating their 25th year, they are not well known in Western Canada, and the hope is to change that!

Although this campaign was initiated to work over the holiday season to raise funds, I decided to make it my focus in January, when Shane would have celebrated his 20th birthday! As with so much, I do this in honor and in memory of him!

Thanks as always for your consideration!

Winter's Bleak Beauty

2011-12-17T15:49:00.001-08:00

I realize that as my last writing was in February, I have once again let the busyness of life get the best of my good intentions. I wonder sometimes if I keep my life so busy on purpose. Is that what keeps the sadness at bay? I wonder. I know I keep saying I want to do things differently, to have more time, more space...but when space appears, I immediately fill it up with something else. Something for me to reflect on I guess.

2011 is all but gone and was a year that saw some healing, finally. It’s been such a rocky road the past few years, but in looking back, I think I can say that for every bad day there was a good one this past year. That is an accomplishment, and hopefully the start of a better balance of days yet to come. And 2011 had some remarkable moments...lots of them in fact! A West-Coast House Concert Tour, 2 trips to Boston to share my music as part of leadership trainings, a return to California for the 25^th Annual Bridge School Benefit Concert among the highlights...but today, I just want to focus on this day, and hope that as I make time for writing in my life, I can touch on some of those things later.

It’s been a funny fall....long and mild and very un-Manitoba like! There is a strong chance that we will be having a ‘brown Christmas’, there is so little snow around. It lays just a few inches deep in the valleys, and in the woods and on the hills there is nothing at all. Though the lack of snow and the dead fall colours leave things looking rather bleak, there is nothing bleak about either the sunrises or the sunsets we’ve been witnessing this year. They have been nothing less than breathtaking!

Sunrise as viewed from the yard, Nov 2011

I just came in from the most amazing walk. Among the things that have happened over the past several months, I have managed to make my own health a priority again. That has included daily walks...and although with the onset of winter they aren’t happening every day right now, I am still managing the recommended three times per week.

Today was exceptional! Here it is, December 16^th, and we’re experiencing temperatures of only -2. Typically my walks are centered on doing circles around my driveway. It’s about 4.5 minutes per circle, and I aim for 45 minutes a day. But today, instead, I ventured south of the yard. The remarkable fall we’ve had has resulted in very little snow for this time of year. As a result, I was able to spend an hour walking back through the pasture and woodlands behind the house. The day was beautiful...sunny and mild. Last night we had just the lightest dusting of snow, and the sparkling reflection of the sun off of it was almost blinding.

I walked for an hour. With the snow being so fresh, I could see the tracks of the dozens of other creatures that share this quarter section of land with me. Some tracks I recognize, the deer, the rabbits. But lots I don’t. I thought of my Grandpa. He’d have known each and every one of them, just like he knew every tree, every wild flower, every bird. As I walked in the stillness of the winter day, I remembered his love of snowshoeing. Even into his 80s he would go out daily for the exercise, the fresh air, and most likely the time with nature that I was enjoying today. It’s funny how our people keep coming back to us at the strangest times. Especially those people who were such brilliant threads in the fabric of our lives. He was like that. The wisdom he shared, the lessons he taught, and the values he held all made you want to be a better person as part of his linage. What a treasure his memory still is.

My Grandpa, Allan James Dickson in his snowshoes (my Dad in the sleigh)
1933 in front of the Ladysmith School

As I walked today, I marveled at the silence. Except for the odd flock of birds whirring past in search of another source of food and the soft whistle of the warm wind, there was nothing. I did hear an eagle, although I didn’t see him, I recognized the call. I know there are several of them around. We’ve watched them feasting on the remains of the deer that didn’t survive hunting season, the ones that were wounded and left or butchered on the spot so the best cuts could be taken and the rest left behind. I know to everything there is a season, but those things just make me angry...and sad! I suppose it is that lack of responsibility on the part of the humans that allowed the eagles to eat for another period of time, so maybe its part of how the cycle is meant to go, I don’t know.

'Cecil's Eagle' photographed behind the cattle pens 4 years ago

For all the fresh tracks around, I half expected to see some sort of wildlife, but the crunching of the snow probably gave them lots of warning that I was coming. They were most likely watching me as I was watching for them! But even so, it was perfect! It allowed me to breathe deeply, centre myself and just be in the moment....what more can you ask of the place you call home.

The stillness of the escarpment in winter......

Till next time,
Lynda
www.musicwriter.ca

The 24th Annual Bridge School Benefit

2011-02-06T14:27:00.001-08:00

It’s been almost five months since I sat down and dedicated the time necessary to update my journal. I don’t know where the time is going to. Every week, at the top of my list of things to do, I write “WRITE”…update blog, work on Shane’s story, pen some tunes…just write!! Somehow it’s been hard to get to, I don’t know why. But it’s time.

Last week I heard that Neil Young will receive the 2011 Allan Waters Humanitarian Award at the Juno Awards on March 27. I decided with that, that I need to dedicate this entry to our trip last October to Mountainview, California.

I’ve mentioned in other posting that at the time of my son Shane’s passing, we’d been saving for him to take a trip in his last year of high school to go to San Francisco to explore the Bridge School and to take in the Bridge School Benefit concert. I won’t repeat the details about the school, that I know I’ve written about before, but you can go to http://www.bridgeschool.org/ if you want to learn more. When he passed away, we turned the money he’d been saving into the “Shane Dickson Memorial Award” and carried on. But last October 15th, I was out doing my morning walk, and for some reason remembered the concert and that it must be happening soon. When I finished my walk, I went and checked, and sure enough it was to take place on October 23rd and 24th. My mind started ticking.

When Cecil came in later that day we talked it over and decided that we had the Airmiles to get us to San Francisco, and we both still really wanted to attend and support the cause in Shane’s memory, so we purchased two tickets online, and packed our bags!

It was a quick trip, only 4 days, because the decision was made very last minute. There were other commitments that needed to be considered, and promises that had been made, but 4 days was enough to get this off my own life’s bucket list.

We flew into San Francisco Friday morning, rented a car and headed to Santa Cruz, California. As always, we look to be close to the water when we vacation, and Santa Cruz seemed to be close enough to all we wanted to take in, while still putting us on the ocean’s doorstep. It was the perfect choice, as we spent Friday and Saturday taking in the Boardwalk with all it had to offer, the Annual Chili Cookoff, The Cold water Classic Surfing competition, and the treasures on the town’s pier. It was like we’d jammed a weeks’ worth of vacationing into those few hours.

Lighthouse veiw at Santa Cruz, California

Sunday morning we headed back to Mountainview, to the Shoreline Amphitheatre to pick up our tickets and enjoy the concert that had been a heart’s desire for so long. The weather didn’t look like it wanted to cooperate, but the show goes on rain or shine, so we’d come prepared for whatever happened. We learned a few things too! Like there’s no point running around town to buy lawn chairs, because if they’re over 10 inches off the ground, they can’t be used at the amphitheatre anyhow! So, sadly, our newly purchased chairs got left behind, but we were able to rent the proper ones right on sight. We’d arrived early, not sure about how things worked, but that naivety allowed us to get some excellent seating once we got through the gates and into the show!

When the concert started, I felt the tears well up in my eyes, and the familiar tightening in my chest that always accompanies events that my heart says should have happened with Shane rather than without him. This had been his trip, his adventure, but instead there we were. For a few moments emotions got the best of me, as I watched them bring out all the children who benefit from the school, and alumni who had attended in the past, including Neil and Pegi’s son Ben for whom they had created Bridge School for initially, back in 1987. As I looked skyward to try and still the flow of tears, and eagle soared overhead. I was reminded Shane wasn’t so far away after all.

The concert was nothing less than amazing! Merle Haggard was ill and unable to attend, but we did enjoy almost 8 hours of acoustic performances including Kris Kristofferson, Pearl Jam and other’s I myself had never heard of, but it was obvious many other attendees had! The Speaking Clock Review was incredible as Elton John and Leon Russell introduced their collaboration, but the highlight had to have been listening to Buffalo Springfield in their first public performance in 42 years! You wouldn’t think they had missed a night of playing together! It was powerful! It felt so surreal to be a part of it all, and the ‘once in a lifetime’ trip to attend has us now thinking…maybe we’ll do it again!

Of Course, my very favorite part!!!

The next day we had one day to spend in San Francisco before heading home. Our thought had been to take in Alcatraz when we were there..but believe it or not, by 10am on a Monday in October all tours for the day were already sold out! Where do the people come from I’d wondered! Unable to do that, we instead wandered along Fisherman’s Wharf, and enjoyed the local fair.

Sea Lions who have made their home on Fisherman's Wharf.

The day was going well, up until I got a call from a friend I’ve yet to meet, to tell me her son Owen had passed away. Owen had captured my heart the year before after seeing him on television. He was like a younger version of Shane…only with beautiful, wildly curly hair. Having the chance to someday meet him had also been on my list of things to one day do, but sadly that’s one that can’t happen. The call reminded me once again how quickly tides can turn, and how fragile life can be, and my heart ached for my friend, knowing too well the journey she was about to embark on. I still think of them both so often these days.

We did finish off our day in San Francisco however. The following morning, we headed back home, and twenty four hours later, it was like a dream! But oh what a dream it was! Who knows…the 25th Annual Bridge School Benefit Concert may be on this fall’s agenda yet!

till next time!

Lynda

www.musicwriter.ca

Appreciating Home.....all the beauty here in Lavenham....

2010-09-12T14:19:00.001-07:00

The view from the escarpment, overlooking the Assiniboine River

It’s a beautiful fall day here, September 12, 2010, and I just returned from my walk up to the ‘escarpment’, as I do every September 12, and have since 2001, the day after 9/11.
At that time, in 2001, September 12 was five months after the passing of my first husband Greg, 2 days before what would have been his 55th birthday, and 24 hours after the world changed forever. In those days, I did the trek up to the escarpment daily. It had become my routine in the final months of Greg’s battle with cancer, when most nights were just plain bad, and most mornings that walk was required to gather my strength and my spirit for the day ahead, and remind myself there was still beauty in the world that was so marred by chemo and heartache. It was a very hard time. In looking back, I know I was the lucky one, as I had the strength and the health to make that walk daily. I continued those morning walks long after his passing, as I walked through the grief.

How many colors in one picture from my bench.

Standing up there on September 12, of 2001, I will always remember looking out at the beauty of that view, and thinking of all those in New York, scrambling to make sense of the world in the aftermath of the day before. That memory has stayed with me to this day, and each year at this time I go back up there, just to remind myself once again, how safe and peaceful and blessed my life is. In working through the Artist’s Way, one of my tasks this week was to go to a sacred space, and I realized as I sat there today, that is my sacred space. The gentle caress of the breeze, the scent of the sun warmed bark and leaves, the silence and the majesty. I was reminded one more time of how fortunate I am.

One of millions of Monarchs this summer, on the lilacs in July

I have been thinking a lot of where I was last year at this time, and the change that a year has made. Last year, I was wrapping up my final days of work before starting a six month sabbatical to find out who Lynda was after Shane’s death. I was packing boxes, changing addresses, pacing the floor in anxious anticipation of getting away from this place I called home. I needed to leave, and I couldn’t get away fast enough. My sight was on Salt Spring Island, and my heart was already there, waiting for my body to catch up.

A bee on a flower I can not name I'm afraid!

This year, I can’t even imagine being anywhere but home. It’s been very strange to say the least. Daily, I take may walks and drink in the sights and sounds around me, just feeling so glad to be here, where I am, doing what I’m doing. A few weeks after I got going on my morning walks here at home, I asked myself why it was that I never left home without my camera on the island, yet hadn’t taken it with me once since returning home. So, I grabbed it the following morning, and started seeing, for maybe the first time in a long time, the beauty and the magic that is right here in the hills of Lavenham.

A canola field near Lavenham, with flax blooming in the background.

My morning walks are normally supposed to be a 45 minute hike to get my heart pumping and my metabolism up for the day, but instead they became what often turned into an hour and a half long artists date, as my interest was captured by butterflies, dragonflies and flowers, in a landscape that seemed to change colors and schemes almost daily. I became a visitor in my own back yard, finally realizing all that there is right here within a mile of my home.

Sunset from my back deck

Common insects became my models. Weeds in flower showed the beauty nature can produce without the hand of man interfering. Wildflowers blossomed, each in their own time, and captured my eye and attention.

One of the many amazing butterflies that allowed me

to photograph them this summer

It’s made for a remarkable summer, as each morning has become my own little artists date between my camera and the nature around me. It’s been really good for my spirit and my soul, and home is truly home again.

A pink ladyslipper that bloomed near the Rossendale Cemetery this July.

I’ve had so much fun taking pictures this summer, and just losing myself in the pursuit of the nature I’m trying to photograph. I should mention though, that about a month ago, I had to give up my normal walking route. A bear has made himself at home in our neighborhood, and although everyone says he’d be more afraid of me than I of him, there have been reports of rather peculiar behavior from him, so I’ve decided although my walk is going well….my run really, truly sucks…so for now I continue my walks making laps around my circle driveway. Amazingly, there’s lots to see right here at home, and no bear to hamper my relaxation.

Another butterfly on wild mustard....

think I need to get a butterfly book!

As walking is one of the times that seems to fire up the neurons in my brain the best, I find some of my best thinking happens on those walks. A couple of weeks ago I purchased a tiny little digital recorder for myself, so as thoughts, to-dos, songs, memories pop into my brain, I can immediately record them to refer back to later in the day. So if you find yourself touring around Lavenham one of these fine days, you’ll recognize me….I’m the woman walking in circles, talking to myself…but I’m enjoying every minute of it.

Sunset along the trans-Canada highway

So many people have asked if we’re taking off again to the Island this winter, but strangely, I have no desire at all right now. Something about the time away last year reminded me of all that is here, all that I have. Maybe coming home to Mom’s illness and loss had something to do with that as well, as I was catapulted back into my home community…drawing on the strength and support that family and friends provided. Recognizing that I don’t think I could have gotten that anywhere else in this world, because this is where my people are.

A dragonfly along Ladysmith Road.

Maybe it was my trip to Lavenham , England in February, where every single person remarked on how very lucky we were to live here with the space and the room that we have to live and grow. Bottom line is, I have no idea why I feel so settled this year, I only know that I’m glad that I do. I’m even looking forward to the coming of winter, building a big fire in the field stone fireplace, curling up with a good book in the comfort of Shane’s chair, watching the world go by through the living room window. Just being at home, and soaking in all that that means.

A dragonfly at the Brandon Discovery Centre in August 2010

Butterfly on my driveway

One of many beautiful Swallowtails

A weedy flower in it's glory!

A bug I thought was just beautiful, but I think now it's the

Dreaded Ash Beetle that is invading Manitoba...still it is pretty!

One of so many bluebirds I saw on my walks this summer. I wonder what they are a sign of?
I like to believe that they are a message from those I have lost telling me that all is well... all is as it should be, not to worry, just be happy.

Till next time,
Lynda

www.musicwriter.ca

Milestones and McGregor Camp

2010-08-17T11:10:00.000-07:00

Well, July has come and gone, and a lot of really wonderful things happened. We had the last of the kids get married as our son tied the knot at a beautiful ceremony at Belle Acre’s Golf Course north of Winnipeg. We were able to spend time at the lake with friends, venturing out to Sportsman’s corner at Westbourne, and Delta north of Portage. We even tried golf for ourselves for the first time, although people are telling me that shooting 100 on a par 39 course is not the same as getting 100%...I still had fun! I’ve decided that it’s not one of my strengths, but is still a great way to put in a summer morning! There were a couple of other really notable things that happened in July I want to share as well.

Me 50 years ago!

That’s me! Can’t believe I reached the day…the big 5-0….wow, it’s been something to wrap my head around. Although looking at the picture of me 50 years ago, not that much has changed I guess. Still have short fingers, chubby arms and still have that smile (although today it’s fortunately still equipped with a full set of teeth!). Wow…fifty years. Who’d have ever thought…we the children of lead painted cribs, and cars with no baby seats…we made it in spite of everything that is considered to be so unthinkable in today’s world!
It was kind of a hard day, and was a bittersweet milestone. Knowing that there are more years behind then are likely to lie ahead, thinking of all those that aren’t here to celebrate this day, reminiscing of those that didn’t get to make this leg of the journey. There were lots of mixed emotions to be sure, but upon returning home from a birthday lunch in Treherne, I was greeted by a surprise party and all my family and friends. Suddenly the sadness of what’s been lost was overridden with the appreciation for all that I have, and it was a marvelous day of celebration with the people that matter most in my world!

The beautiful birthday cake designed by my daughter Bianca

July offered another opportunity for which I’m still on an adrenalin high from. It started with an email I received back in December from Faye Mc Gregor in Switzerland, asking how she would go about getting several copies of my most recent CD. She also wondered if I’d be available to come out to Lake of the Woods to perform at the first McGregor Leadership Camp that she and her husband Mark were going to be hosting there come July. I’ve known Mark and Faye since high school, and was thrilled that they’d think of me for this opportunity! I was honored.

Our Hosts, Mark and Faye McGregor

Mark and Faye are one of those amazing couples that seem to have accomplished so much in their lifetime together! They’ve taken the lessons learned in pursuing their own goals and passions, and have turned them into a career focusing on leadership trainings that have taken them around the world, opening doors and changing the lives of the people that come to the sessions.

At home in the cottage

Although Mark is the front man, a former professional hockey player, coach and manager, he has taken his message to the public forums that have supported him to become one of the most popular management-trainers, coaches and keynote-speakers on an international level, there is no question that it is a family team effort that has enabled so much success. (for more about Mark’s offerings go to http://www.markmcgregor.ch/1_frameset_eng/frameset_eng.htm )

Explaining the activity to be accomplished during

July 201o's McGregor Leadership Camp

One of their family dreams had been to finally have their own place to hold the leadership camps and trainings, and McGregor Camp on beautiful Lake of the Woods was the summation of that dream!

So on July 8th, my wonderful friend Dixie accompanied me as I headed off towards Kenora for a evening of friendship and singing. The first McGregor Leadership camp involved 5 remarkable people from Germany and the Czech Republic, who had come so far to focus on developing their leadership skills, and enhance the quality of their personal lives through the tools and lessons that Mark shared with them. We also got to meet another terrific couple from a little closer to home who share my passions for writing and photography, so there was never an end to great conversation! My participation for the evening was to perform a house concert to entertain their guests for the week, and give them a bit of a change up from the work that they focused on during their days. At the last minute, during our phone conversation earlier that week, Mark had thrown something out about a sing-a-long…so not knowing what to expect, we went prepared for the unexpected! I put together some songbooks of songs that I hoped even folks from across the big pond may have been familiar with, and Dixie and I stopped at the Dollar store on our way through Portage to stock up on tambourines and other assorted percussion instruments, so that even if the singing didn’t work, everyone could participate!

McGregor Leadership Camp on Beautiful Lake of the Woods

Upon arrival I realized that the cottage at the centre of my vision board was not in fact on Falcon Lake, but right in front of me! They’ve built a beautiful place there, that seconds as a learning camp, as they’ve developed a second building on the site into a center that has a large seminar room for trainings, an exercise facility for down time, and even a space for massages or experiencing the yoga that Faye teaches. They really offered a little bit of everything to those that attended!

Off to explore Lake of the Woods with our new aquaintances!

Shortly after arriving, we were all treated to a boat ride to explore a bit of Lake of the Woods, heading out from the sheltered bay that their camp inhabits. It was beautiful! The night was perfect, and the company was wonderful!

Dixie and I enjoying our evening boat ride.

The view of the Lake from the boat dock at McGregor Camp.

Upon returning from our ride, we were treated to an amazing dinner prepared by our hostess with the help of her Mom and her friend, shared a glass or two of wine, then moved into the veranda to share an evening of music. With Dixie as my supporting manager, I shared an hour of my music, and then we switched up the evening into a campfire sing-a-long (without the campfire, or the bugs…but the sensation was the same!)

Dixie and I with our host and friend, Leadership trainer Mark McGregor.

It was one of those evenings that absolutely filled my spirit with joy, a feeling I haven’t been getting enough of in the past many months. It was a very welcome reprieve! It was a wonderful evening for me, and I think everyone else enjoyed it as well. Mark ensured that the attendees all received a copy of my CD, so that my music has now had the opportunity to spread a little further…and I’ve ended up with a great new circle of people, many of whom I’ve remained in contact with since!

Evening House Concert and Sing-A-Long

One of the most amazing things about the night was Mark’s suggestion that he and I collaborate together on putting together a collection of presentations to take out to educators and various other community and business sectors here closer to home, combining his expertise and my music. It was as if he’d reached into my mind and picked out the idea that had drawn me home from Salt Spring Island all those months ago…the notion, or rather the knowledge, that I need to find a way to keep sharing the story, and the message and the lessons learned! That opportunity to perform has led to so many possibilities, that my head is still spinning…but in a very, good way! I’m thrilled about the potential, and excited about it every day. That is such a wonderful place to be each morning, especially after the pain of the past many months. I feel like my stars are aligning, and life really is very good! I’ll keep you all posted!

Lake of the Woods sunset from McGregor Camp deck

Till next time!

Lynda

http://www.musicwriter.ca/

MacGregor Collegiate Class of 2010 Graduation

2010-07-31T10:38:00.001-07:00

Memorial Inukshuks made by Sheila Kornago of Winnipeg

Wow, here we are on August eve, 2010. We are half way through the short summers we enjoy here on the prairies, and already some morning walks have the kiss of fall.

I have so many things I want to write about, and so little time to capture my thoughts these days it seems. But there are things that I should have documented earlier, and didn’t get around to, and today I wanted to share some of those.

June 24 was MacGregor Collegiate Institute graduation for the class of 2010. It will go down in history as one of the hardest, hardest days I will ever endure. It was the day that Shane should have graduated with his peers. It was a day I’d long dreamed of, seeing him sitting up there on the stage amongst them. IT was a day that never came for him….but it did for me, and I hope that because of that, he was there, he was in the room and on the stage and in the hearts of all that graduated with him. The school and graduates invited us to be part of all that went on that day, and it was an honor to be included.

I’d been racking my brain since last summer about how to pay tribute to these amazing young people, who had had such significant roles in the life he was able to live. I didn’t want the day to slip by without somehow acknowledging the contributions that each of them had made, and finally, weeks before the day, it came to me. I was sitting at my desk, puzzling yet again, and I looked up at the beautiful glass Inukshuk that proudly sits at the edge of the shelf, watching over me. Of course!! Inukshuks are so symbolic of what I wanted to say…’someone passed this way’….I emailed Sheila Kornago of Stained Glass by Sheila and asked if it were possible to have 52 of them made in the 5 weeks between my thinking of them and the graduation. She said she certainly could, and my dilemma was solved.

I’d also been discussing my dilemma with my sister and my brother in law, who is very involved in the construction of the new Canadian Museum for Human Rights. They decided to also contribute a museum pin to each of Shane’s classmates, so appropriate.

Canadian Museum for Human Rights Commerative Shine pin.

I was lucky also, that as I annually present the Shane Dickson Memorial award for Inclusion, that the staff at MCI gave me the time and support needed to present the gifts and address Shane’s classmates. The address went as follows:

“As you can imagine, today is probably one of the toughest days I will face, and even though it saddens me not to see Shane sitting there amongst you on this special occasion, I know he is standing here beside me with his arm around my shoulder….propping me up, cheering you on, and hooting with pride for all of you, his fellow classmates! I too am so proud to have been given the opportunity to address this very, very special class as you head out into your new lives. You leave here a class of students, but you’re already a class of citizens who has changed rules and boundaries through your actions and acceptance of a young man, who was fortunate enough to have had the opportunity to be educated along side of you.
I hope each of you leave this stage of your lives knowing the difference you have made in countless lives, most of which we may never know of. When you started school 13 years ago, alongside a child who did everything differently, you showed how very little differences truly matter. I know that there were people that questioned Shane being supported to be educated alongside children who didn’t face the monumental challenges he did, and I have anonymous letters to prove that. However, your supports and friendships gave him what he needed to live life fully, and you gave this Mom’s dreams for her son wings to fly. I don’t know how many of you know this, but the example you all set and the experience you provided for Shane has been shared around the world. It even became part of the department of education’s paper to present at last year’s Inclusion Summit in Spain. And every day, it continues to give hope to parents of other children with special needs, as they start their unique journey. I am so proud of and grateful to each of you.
To recognize your accomplishment, I have a small gift for each of you that I will hand out as you pass me after receiving your diploma. It includes a inukshuk that I hope you will find a place for in your lives ahead. Inukshuk means “stone man that points the way” Their purpose was to show directions and guide the way. They stand as a symbol of the importance of friendship and to remind us of our dependence on one another. I hope it will remind you of the valued piece you played in pointing the way towards full inclusion for a fellow classmate.
Shane’s aunt and uncle, have also provided each of you with a ‘Shine’ pin from the Canadian Museum for Human Rights. The verse says “there is a star born in each of us when we open our minds to let in the light. When we brighten a darkened path. When we see our reflection in each other. We Shine.” You have shone brightly, each and every one of you. I hope you always continue to do so.”

Of course, part of the day involved presenting the award. I’ve left it up to the staff at MCI to decide who merits it. When Shane was there, and I was actively involved I may have been more able to suggest, but now I feel they are the ones that must decide. I was so happy this year when they chose Trem Cleaver! Trem had been best friends with Shane since they were 4 years old, and I believe he is such a big part of Shane having been accepted as one of the gang. His acceptance of Shane for who was encouraged others to do the same, and I know it made a huge difference in everything Shane got to experience. I felt absolutely no guilt in handing that award to Shane’s best friend, as I know he will continue to live his life making differences for others, just as he did for Shane.

Trem and I, Graduation, June 24, 2010

I got a text from Trem a few weeks ago, wanting to talk to me. He wondered if it was okay with me that he planned to get a tattoo, his first, and he wanted it to be Shane’s initials and the years of his life. Wow…what could I say, but of course? Shane would be thrilled, and my eyes teared knowing that throughout all of Trem’s years, questions will be asked about what that tattoo means, and Shane will be remembered and shared as he tells people. What a great tribute. How times have changed….100 years ago he may have lived and died and been buried in an unmarked grave, because children with his needs were viewed and valued differently. Today his life is celebrated on his best friend’s ribs, and in the memories of all that knew him. Things are definitely better.

Trem's fresh tattoo in memory of his friend, Shane Dickson

Till next time,
Lynda
http://www.musicwriter.ca/

My Mom....Vera Merle Dickson

2010-07-11T06:39:00.001-07:00

I looked at the calendar this morning and realized it’s been exactly 4 months since my last update. I so apologize to all that follow my life and times through this blog, and intend to do better moving forward. There truly has been much to write about, but once again it’s been necessary for me to catch my breath and heal my spirit before I could come back to doing these things I so love to do.
As most know, we returned to our lives on the prairie on March 30, but unfortunately our reentry into this world was much rockier and harsher than we could ever have imagined.
Early on the morning of March 31st, my Mom called to see if we could pick her up and take her to emergency. She had been doctoring because her stomach had been upset since late January, but she seemed to be controlling it with antacids and careful eating. Then in mid February she started having an ongoing backache that her chiropractor didn’t seem to be able to relieve. The problems were annoying, but didn’t seem to be that serious, until that morning when she called.
Cecil and I picked her up and had her into Portage by 6:30am…and that was the start to yet another irreversible change in our world. By April 6th, they had diagnosed her with pancreatic cancer, which by the time it was found had invaded the liver and bile duct. There was no treatment, no hope, only palliative support and a limited amount of time to get her affairs in order. We were all left dumbfounded. How could someone who had always strived so hard to do everything right for herself and her family have this to deal with? How was it that only two weeks before, she’d flown out to meet us on Salt Spring Island to celebrate our daughter’s wedding? It was another one of those times that life just seemed too unfair. But as with everything else my mother did, she handled the news with grace and strength and concern not for herself, but for the rest of us she loved in what this would put us through.

Mom's Birthday 2009

When she was released from the hospital on April 10th, we offered her all the options of where she could go, making plans to set up what would be needed to support her in her own home, as she’d always said she never wanted to leave there. But she decided for that one night, she’d come home with us and spend the night in Shane’s room, while she thought things over.
The next morning she got up and over coffee told me “Shane and I had a big, long talk last night, and we’ve decided it would be best if I stay right her with you and Cecil if that’s okay.” Who was I to argue with her and Shane, the only thing I told her was that next time the two of them were talking, could she send him across the hall to say hi to his Mom!
We braced ourselves and made preparations for the journey ahead, not knowing at that time it would only be a short 5 weeks from diagnosis to death. Looking back, it’s a bit of a blur, but as painful as that loss continues to be, I feel so lucky for what we were able to achieve and experience in that short period of time.

Mom with me on my wedding day June 1, 2004.

We were fortunate in that the bumps in life have provided us with the knowledge and skills necessary to support the rapid changes that the disease caused in a fairly seamless manner. We made her dying as gentle and as dignified as it could be for her, and she responded in kind. We worked as a family team, my husband and our family, my sister and hers, my brother and his, and my Mom’s siblings…all banding together to make the best of a bad situation, all there for her giving her the one and only thing that had ever really mattered to her…the love and support of her family. In those weeks we had endless family suppers, movie nights, afternoon visits, and conversations. We took a night and put all the pictures that my mother had been taking on the digital camera we’d given her in 2004 on a disc, and we had a “Granny’s picture night”, where all of us spent our evening watching life from my Mom’s perspective in the time leading up to Dad’s stroke and the loneliness afterwards. It was heartwarming, eye opening and a little bit painful so see that time through her lens. When it was over, Mom was thrilled, and announced that this was one of the best months ever! Oh to have her grace!

Mike and Mim's Wedding, May 8, 2010

The week before Mom passed my brother married his longtime girlfriend here at our home, and Mom was able to be front and centre for the celebration of her last child. She beamed! She had fought very hard to be there, each morning the week before waking up and asking how many more days, not wanting to mess up his special day with her illness. She didn’t. It was perfect. At the end of the day, as we watched the happy couple cut the cake and open gifts, we finished with a sing-along so that Mike and Mim could have their first dance as a married couple, followed by a few songs were I played with the amazing accompaniment of Mim’s brother Iain. And just as I knew she would, Mom requested her favorite song “One Day at a Time”, and sang along with me as I sang what I know will be the hardest song ever.

That was on May 8th, and at 6:15am on May 14th, we gathered around her in the comfort of Shane’s old room as she took her final breath and went to join Dad and Shane. Even as I write these words, almost two months later, it seems so impossible that she is gone. She was my biggest fan, my strongest supporter, the one who still thought her children were perfect, even after all these years! It seems impossible that in only 26 months my husband and I have lost three parents and my precious son. It seems impossible that the world goes on, but it does, and so do we. Changed forever, but so fortunate to have had them in our lives and our world for as long as we did.
We all decided we needed a few weeks to catch our breath and ground ourselves after the whirlwind we’d found ourselves coming home to after her diagnosis, so we waited until June 12th to have her Memorial service. My brother Michael Dickson did her eulogy, and once again captured her essence and her life perfectly with his words. It went as follows:

In better times....together again.

“If you look at the framework of a person’s life, most would look...well...less than extraordinary. If you looked at the framework of Mom’s life you might see a woman who; was born and raised on a small farm in Southern Manitoba, grew up to become a teacher, got married, raised a family (on a small farm in Southern Manitoba) worked until she retired and... sadly...passed away quietly on a small farm in Southern Manitoba.
It’s only when you look much closer that you see: the young girl born to a hard working prairie family whose humble beginnings saw her forced to sleep in the drawer of her parent’s dresser. Now...it was never made clear to us if it was the top drawer or the bottom drawer...or if any of her other siblings occupied the other drawers but...I digress. You see the hopes and dreams of a young girl growing up, riding horses, skating with friends and taking the buggy back and forth to school. You would see the determination of a young woman who completed her schooling and pursued her childhood dream of becoming a teacher.
The courage it took to leave her home to travel to strange and distant lands like Nelson House and...Rossendale. You would see the passion of a woman who could open her heart to love at first sight, the patience to wait for her true love to come to his senses and confess his love and the courage to follow her heart. You would see the spontaneity required to pack up her worldly belongings, fly out to the west coast and get engaged on December 19th 1958...and get married on December 20th 1958. I always assumed that Mom and I were so different and that she must have figured that I was crazy and irresponsible but...while writing this...I realized that, maybe, we weren’t all that different after all.
After following Dad back and forth across the country she returned with him to Rossendale where she worked for 30 years teaching at Long Plains. She embraced the community and the culture and they, in turn, I believe, embraced her. She taught several generations and made lifelong friends. She always loved running into former students, seeing how they were doing, meeting their children...sometimes their grandchildren. She took pride in their accomplishments, mourned their losses and felt happy to see when they were doing well.
In later years her joy came from her grandchildren. Going to soccer, hockey and baseball games, swimming, Christmas concerts spending time hanging out with Jamie, Shane, Michelle, Richard and, on visits, Andrew. Baking, reading, watching movies. When Lynda and Cecil married the circle grew to include more grand children and great grand children, all of whom she embraced and treasured.
After Dad had his stroke Mom’s focus turned to caring for and supporting him. Most of us could not believe or appreciate how much work it was but she never complained, never felt sorry for herself or showed resentment for her situation. She did whatever it took, accepting that that was just what needed to be done.
When Dad died...Mom’s heart was broken. We all thought we knew how hard it was for her but, in hindsight, I don’t think we really had any idea. The world she knew was gone. Just a year later, when Shane passed away, I think it was more than she could bear.

Shane and his Granny

When Mom received her diagnosis it shook her, to be sure, but she seemed to accept it (quite readily), to be at peace with her lot. It was only 5 short weeks from the day that she received the diagnosis that she passed away but those 5 weeks were filled with family, friends, laughter and love. All of the things she had held so dear. There was the opportunity for generations to grow closer as her brothers and sisters, children and grand children shared her final days.
She was not afraid to die. She found strength in her faith and peace in knowing that she was going to see two of the most important people in her life; her beloved Jim and her dear Shaney. We just hoped that...when she arrived they were there waiting for her...not busy out Bull shopping or looking at cattle trailers.
Over the past several years Mom began keeping a journal. It wasn’t until after her death that we started to read them. It gave us a great insight into our mother the person. lf any of you are keeping a journal now, keep it up, if you have ever considered keeping a journal, I would encourage you to do so. Someone once said any life that is worth living is worth recording. It’s true. Trust me, you’re children will thank you and it will stand as a great testament to your lives.
I don’t remember Mom ever saying a bad word about anyone (although she did always remark when I filled that void...ooh, Michael...language). She saw the good in everyone, the best in every situation and the infinite potential in each of her students.
When Lynda, Joanne and I met with the minister to discuss this memorial she asked us to choose a word to describe Mom. The first three words that came out of our mouths were...family, kindness and love. If, after 72 years of living, and...going on 50...ish years of raising a family, those left behind who loved you most choose those three words to describe you. I think you’ve lived a pretty extraordinary life...I think that stands as an amazing legacy.
So now it falls to us to carry on this legacy of family, kindness and love...and we will, because of the values Mom instilled in us. She did all that was asked of her and she did everything right. She will never be forgotten and she will always be loved. “

So now here we are, July 11, 2010. Lots of other things have happened since our return, lots of good things, lots of things on the horizon, but for now, I just felt it was most important to talk about Mom. I think that maybe this was all a part of the reason I was called to take the time away last winter, to regroup and strengthen myself for what we’d be coming home to. To be able to have what it took to do what she needed, and I’ll always be so proud and so grateful we were able to do that for her. It’s exactly what she would have done for us.
Until next time,
Lynda
www.musicwriter.ca

Reflections.....

2010-03-11T21:24:00.001-08:00

During our recent trip to Scotland, I was able to capture a lot of amazing reflections in the lakes and ponds we visited as part of a tour we took. Those images seemed to be fitting for all the reflecting I find myself doing these days. Reflections on loss, on change, on little miracles that have happened over the past several months, on what it all means….

It’s been exactly one year now since Shane left us. In many ways it feels like it’s been the longest year of my life…in others, the time has passed remarkably fast. I find it almost unbelievable that a year has passed since I turned off that light, and a mere twenty minutes later I turned it back on to find that he’d slipped away on me. That memory feels like it was yesterday, and often on the cusp of sleep, it sneaks back into my thoughts, haunting my dreams. That will forever remain the worst moment of my life. That it was a year ago…that seems impossible…

I’ve also been doing a lot of reflecting on the choices I’ve made to get me through the last year of grieving. Coming out to Salt Spring Island still feels like it was the right choice for me. Taking time away from my routine and life at home feels like it too was right. This strange period of down time has allowed me to sit back and take in so many things that I likely would have missed in my normal, everyday business. That opportunity to be aware of what’s happening around me has brought me my whales, my eagles, my hummingbirds, my roses in winter…all those gifts that nature has offered to keep me looking forward and upward. I hope that my return to my ‘real’ world will allow time and space to continue that connection in my own beautiful corner. I hope that all of this will allow me to continue to feel ‘okay’ when I get back to my own home and world.

I’ve been reflecting on who I am now. So many years of my identity were tied up in being Shane’s Mom. The void has left me searching for who Lynda is now, and I don’t think I yet have that answer, but know that whoever she is, a big part of that person is because of having been Shane’s Mom. I carry his lessons and gifts with me daily. I always will, and continue to give him credit for who I am.

Gradually, over the last several months, I’ve once again been able to see traces of Lynda when I look in the mirror. For so long the person looking back had such sadness and loss in her expression, and such sorrow in her eyes, she was often unrecognizable to me. Now, sometimes, the face looking back shows small traces of joy and happiness. I hope those glimpses continue to expand into what might one day become the ordinary again, rather than the exception. But will that be the norm? I don’t’ know, I don’t know what normal is anymore…normal keeps changing on me. ..maybe that’s the problem. I look back over the past twelve months, and try to figure out if I feel less ‘broken’…because in the days following Shane’s death, I can only say that I felt like I had shattered into a million tiny pieces. I don’t know if I still feel that broken…I don’t think I do…I think I’ve started to put those pieces of myself back together, but will I ever feel ‘whole’ again….I don’t honestly believe that I will…. Shane made me whole, and if he’s not here, how can I be? I am simply a different, glued together version of the me that was complete because of him.

But I am ok…that’s far from perfect, but the best I can claim these days…and that’s okay. None of this has been accomplished alone. Even though I ‘ran away from home’…home followed right behind me in the calls, emails and letters that have continued to lift me when the days have been darkest.

. I’ve come to realize that for whatever unfortunate events have darkened my days, I’m still a very, very lucky woman in the family I have and the circle that embraces me. I am here…..and Shane? Well, he’s right here beside me, blessing my days, bring magic to my experiences, and supporting me to keep moving forward through the darkness of his loss towards the light on the other side.

Till next time,

Lynda