Widow's Endorphins: In My Hand I Hold

Widow's Endorphins: In My Hand I Hold: In my hand I hold the Universe: all the suns, moons, planets, and stars beyond the Milky Way.  In my hand I hold Earth's snow capp...

In My Hand I Hold

In my hand I hold the Universe: all the suns, moons, planets, and stars beyond the Milky Way.  In my hand I hold Earth's snow capped mountains, glowing pink in the morning sun; lush evergreen forests, dotted with orange and red maples; wind swept swirls of desert sands, beneath cloudless blue skies.  In my hand I hold blue green seas, dolphins, whales and starfish; sailboats, gliding across sun sparkled ripples of water, and gulls circling fishermen hauling in bountiful catches in their nets.  In my hand I hold the excited giggles of babies taking their first steps;  the tears of friends who've lost a loved one;  stories of daring, courage, compassion, and enduring love.  In my hand I hold the art, music and dance of the ages.  In my hand I hold knowledge, truth, and lies; the best punchlines and one-liners ever spoken.  In my hand I hold all that came before me, and dreams of what may come.  In my hand I hold my phone.  It's not just a smartphone...it's bloody brilliant!

I was staring at it - my great oracle - in the palm of my hand.  With a gentle sweep of my finger, and a soft tap, the world - the Universe - is revealed.  I'm no wizard, but that's pretty magical!

The latest discoveries in astrophysics, and cancer treatment - from the vastness of the great beyond, to nano particles - are all held in the palm of my hand.  I just read, that analysis of fossils found in Nanjing, China show that flowering plants existed in the Early Jurassic period, 174 million years ago.  That's 50 million years earlier than thought.  Scrolling further, I discover that this New Year's Eve, Nasa's New Horizons spacecraft is going to reach Ultima Thule, also known as, 2014 MU69, a part of the Kuiper Belt, some 6.5 Billion (with a B) kilometres away.  Remote communications takes 6 hours each way, so sometime on New Year's Day, we may get the first pictures...on our phones, in the palm of our hand.

Truthfully, as amazing as these events are, they appear on our phones alongside friends' photos of what everyone brought to last night's potluck dinner, hilarious memes, and cat videos.  I can't help but think that back in Columbus' day, news of his arrival in the New World, eventually made it to Spain, where it was greeted with marvel, which gave way to the mundane.  "Did you hear about the voyage?"  "Yes, quite something, and isn't that a rainstorm gathering on the horizon?  Better bring the laundry in."

  

From my smartphone, time and space are fluid.  It seems as if it is always "tomorrow" in Australia.  Vancouver is three hours behind Toronto.  So, I can have a simultaneous conversation on Facebook with my sister in Melbourne, and friends on Canada's Westcoast, and other friends in the UK, and Europe, and "be" in five time zones, and two different days at once.  Add in, a live feed from a Nasa Mars landing, and the emotional timewarp of listening to Black Magic Woman, Brown Eyed Girl, or Malo Suavecito playing in the background, and you'll get what I mean about the fluidity of time and space!  It's nothing new (except for the Mars landing).  Quite ordinary, really.  I just have an almost childlike fascination with it.

Just this morning, while sipping my coffee and streaming through my Facebook feed on my phone, I read a story about the SS Warrimoo's history-making voyage from Vancouver to Australia.  On New Year's Eve, 1899 Captain John DS Phillips learned that the ship was within a few miles of the intersection of the Equator and the International Date Line.  He changed course, and the engine speed, so that by Midnight, the Warrimoo hovered over the two geographic lines.  The bow of the ship was in the Southern Hemisphere, where it was Summer.  The stern was in the Northern Hemisphere, and Winter.  You could stand in the bow, where it was January 1st, 1900, then, walk to the aft, where it was still December 31st, 1899.  The ship made history for being in two different days, two different months, two different seasons, two different years...and two different centuries, all at once!

My phone is more than a piece of technology.  It's the conduit of a soul connection between me and the world, the world and me.  My on-line friendships are very real.  I help administer an on-line widows' group of more than 8-thousand widows.  The pain, anguish and anxiety are real.  The bonds of sisterhood are real, and each one of us is grateful to be able to connect anytime of the day or night, with other women who, "just know".  When I am comforting someone, I imagine her sitting in my kitchen, a friend just needing someone to talk to, someone to listen with an open heart.  Sending good energy out, and getting good energy back, is healing.  It's good for the soul.

Each day, my friends on the Westcoast of Canada, and in Michigan, share the most glorious sunrises, spectacular sunsets, breathtaking seascapes, flowers, deer, eagles, hummingbirds and lunar images.  They lift my spirits, and start my day on a positive note.  My heart sings...and sometimes aches for home.

My phone is held with a firm gentleness, like a hug.  The people I love and care for are there, on Facebook, Messenger, in e-mails, texts, Instagram, even on the actual phone!  Almost every day, I laugh so hard, I can hardly type. the phone just jiggles in my hand.  When something touches my heart, I've noticed myself bring the phone close to my heart.  This is weird...when I blush, I actually turn the phone over, face down.  Please tell me, I'm not alone!

Far from distancing us from one another, technology brings us closer.  I have reconnected with old friends, and made new friends all through the on-line world.  We share selfies, and family photos of how we spent our weekend, or our vacation.  I've watched children and grandchildren evolving.  I've shared in weddings, birthdays and celebrations of life.  I've watched gardens being planted, nurtured, harvested, then, enjoyed photographs of jams and preserves proudly displayed in glass jars along kitchen counters.

Since so many of my friends are creatives, everything from photography, to graphic novel illustrations, to paintings, to jewelry design, textile designs, music, song and dance, is shared all day, every day.  Even my own clothing designs are modelled.  Many of us are writers, some with published books in real bookstores.  We talk politics, religion, health and mental health, exchange vegetarian recipes, and information about the best places in Toronto for BBQ ribs.  And we laugh a lot!  Lives are lived. All, in the palm of my hand. It's great to be alive!

What would William Blake have thought of it all?

To see a world in a grain of sand,
And Heaven in a wild flower,
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand,
and eternity in an hour. 
             -William Blake (1757 - 1827)

Wow, man!

Photographs Copyright of:  Ruth Adams, Widow's Endorphins Photographic Images Incorporated.

Widow's Endorphins: The Greatest Gift

Widow's Endorphins: The Greatest Gift: It was a perfect match.  In keeping with Sikh tradition, Gurdial Dale Singh Badh's marriage to Narinder was arranged.  While t...

The Greatest Gift

It was a perfect match.  In keeping with Sikh tradition, Gurdial Dale Singh Badh's marriage to Narinder was arranged.  While those who brought them together knew it would be a great union, no one could have known that Narinder, the beautiful young woman who grew up in the Vancouver suburb of Ladner, would one day save the life of the young man who grew up in the forests and ranch country of British Columbia's Nicola Valley.

Not even the Sikh temple priest in Merritt, who was a master of palmistry.  Reading Dale's palm one day decades ago, the priest said, "when you are about 40, you'll have a health issue, but you will be fine."

Narinder was very close to her grandmother.   Driving her grandmother home one day, she was told about plans for an arranged marriage.  Narinder's grandmother had seen Dale, and met with Dale's father.  Narinder recalls her grandmother describing Dale, saying, "he's got a strong religious upbringing, and he doesn't drink".  As she dropped her grandmother off, her grandmother said, "give it some thought".  "I was twenty years old," says Narinder, "it went in one ear, and out the other."

That night, her beloved grandmother had a massive stroke, and died in hospital the next day.  Four weeks later, Dale's family arrived at their home to meet Narinder and her family.  She and Dale spoke, surrounded by both families.  Before leaving, Dale's family wanted an answer:  would she marry Dale, or not?  Dale and Narinder's daughters, now in their mid-twenties, ask, "Mum, how could you do that?"  Narinder says she trusted her grandmother, "she knew that he was the right person for me."  Two months later, Dale and Narinder were married.  That was thirty-one years, and four children ago.

As a teenager, working weekends and Summer holidays in a sawmill, Dale began having back pain. He says that after a lengthy checkup, his Family Doctor referred him to a Kidney Specialist in Kamloops, about an hour drive from Merritt.  That's when doctors told him that he was born with abnormal kidneys:  one was pea sized, and the other, enlarged.  He was told that he could still function with only one working kidney, even though it was enlarged.

Dale went on to college in Kamloops, then took the Heavy Duty Mechanic Pre-Apprentice and Diesel Pre-Apprentice programmes at Pacific Vocational in Burnaby, before completing the Real Estate programme at the University of British Columbia's Sauder School of Business in Vancouver in 1986.  By the time he was a husband and father, Dale was working long hours in the hot, competitive Vancouver real estate market. 

When he first moved to Vancouver in 1984, Dale told his new Family Doctor about his kidney issues, and handed over his detailed medical records.  "Unfortunately," says Dale, "the new doctor was more into making money, than taking care of patients, and doing the proper follow-up."

In the early 1990's, when Dale tried to renew his life insurance coverage, he was turned down.  Blood and urine analysis revealed abnormal Creatinine levels.  Although Dale had been getting regular checkups, the Family Doctor had not been keeping watch on Dale's kidney function.  Dale was sent to a Kidney Specialist, who advised his Family Doctor to put him on blood pressure medication.  The Family Doctor (who eventually lost his license) ignored the advice.  Stress, and a lack of blood pressure medication, took their toll on Dale's one good kidney.  He had only 50% kidney function.

As his condition deteriorated, Dale found a new Family Doctor.  His blood pressure was 165/110.  He was told he was, "a walking timebomb, and needed to see a Specialist as soon as possible." Dale's Specialist advised him that he would need dialysis, and a kidney transplant.

Dale took it calmly.  So calmly, the Kidney Specialist didn't think he fully accepted the harsh reality of what he had been told.  Every 30 hours, someone in Canada dies waiting for an organ transplant.  Dale says, he always remembered the words of the temple priest, "you will be fine."

Narinder was expecting their fourth child.  Dale's kidney function dropped to 40%, then 30%...and when his kidney function dropped to 20%, he began daily dialysis at home.  The eight hour regiment would begin at 10 o'clock at night, and end at six the next morning.  Dale was almost 40 years old.

Dale's family members were being tested to see if they would be a match for transplant.  His friends and clients too, offered to be tested.  Dale says, "I was blessed to have my whole family by my side through this entire ordeal." 

The Canadian Institute for Health Information (CIHI) recently released data comparing ten year survival rates of those on dialysis, to those who've had kidney transplants.  Their data shows a 16% ten year survival rate for dialysis patients, and an 74% ten year survival rate for transplant recipients.  As of today, there are over 4,500 people waiting for an organ donation in Canada, and an estimated 260 of them will not survive the coming year.

Organ donation saves lives.  One deceased donor can save up to eight lives, donating their heart, liver, kidneys, lungs, pancreas and intestines.  Between 50 and 75 lives can be greatly improved through tissue donation, including skin, corneas, bone and tendons, veins and arteries, and heart valves.  This Christmas season of gift giving, registering to be an organ donor is as easy as clicking on Beadonor.ca

In the world of organ donation and transplant, kidney transplants are often performed with living donors.  Unlike a heart, which is obviously essential to the survival of a donor, and cannot be removed until the donor dies, liver and kidneys can be donated by a living donor.  A liver can be divided in half, and both halves will regenerate into two whole livers.  As for kidneys, a donor needs only one kidney to survive, which leaves a spare to share.  Also, the survival rate for those with a living donor is higher than for those who've received a kidney from a deceased donor.

The body's natural immune system doesn't recognize the new, alien organ, and will attack it.  Simply put, the closer the new organ "looks like" the old organ, the better the immune system is fooled into accepting it.  Extensive searches are undertaken to find a donor match, based primarily on blood type compatibility.  The immune system is not easily fooled, so after transplant, organ recipients must take immunosuppressant medication for the rest of their lives.

Dale's match was his soul's perfect match:  Narinder.  Two days after their fourth child's first birthday, Narinder gave her husband the greatest gift of all - a second chance at life.  On March 16th, 1998, Narinder donated one of her healthy kidneys to Dale.

Looking back, Narinder says, "I just knew that it was something I had to do.  I loved my husband.  There was nothing I had to think about."

Asked if she would recommend organ donation, Narinder says, "for sure - without a doubt."  She says, "it's a decision that I would whole heartedly make."  A longtime kindergarten teacher, who now teaches grade three students in the Vancouver school system, Narinder believes there needs to be greater public education about organ donation.  She says, "the fear of not knowing", prevents people from registering to be organ donors.

More than twenty years later, Dale is stable, and thriving.  A successful realtor, he is one of the top five of the 100 Associates at Re/MAX.  Early in the new year, Dale will be re-launching the internationally popular Punjabi radio station, Sher-E-Punjab Radio AM 600...you'll be hearing a lot more about organ donation!

One last word...the Sikh priest who read Dale's palm those decades ago, also said, "you will marry only once".  That one marriage, to a very special woman, has given Dale a second chance at life...the greatest gift.

Photographs Copyright of:  Ruth Adams, Widow's Endorphins Photographic Images Incorporated.

Widow's Endorphins: David Austin, The Godfather of the English Rose

Widow's Endorphins: David Austin, The Godfather of the English Rose:   Internationally renowned horticulturalist, David Charles Henshaw Austin died yesterday, at the age of 92.  In his lifetime, the Shro...

David Austin, The Godfather of the English Rose

 

Internationally renowned horticulturalist, David Charles Henshaw Austin died yesterday, at the age of 92.  In his lifetime, the Shropshire, England based rose grower gave the world 230 new breeds of roses.  As many mournful gardeners have said, "he will live forever in our gardens".  

In recent years, I have photographed many David Austin roses growing on my Toronto balcony, in a nearby park, and in Victoria's Butchart Gardens.  

A Shropshire lad, Austin began breeding roses as a hobby when he was a teenager.  His name became synonymous with fine quality roses, from his very first, the pale pink Constance Spry, to Gertrude Jekyll, Boscobel, Jubilee Celebration, James Galway, Queen of Sweden, Winchester Cathedral, Shropshire Lad, a white rose, named for his daughter, Claire Austin, and perhaps his favourite, a very popular pink rose named for his granddaughter, Olivia Rose Austin.

For his contribution to horticulture, Austin was awarded with the Order of the British Empire.  It was awarded in 2007, the same year his wife Pat, a painter and sculptor, died.  It was a marriage of two artists, because rose breeding is as much an art, as it is a science.

Passionate about breeding roses, Austin was still working on new breeds when he was interviewed two years ago, at the age of 90.  The "Godfather of the English Rose" was not planning to retire, and said he wanted to, "breed a really good crimson rose, and continue improving the disease resistance of our roses."  He said he was, "just as excited about breeding roses now as I was when I started doing it as a hobby as a 15-year old."  

Family meant much to David Austin:  from the names he bestowed on his roses, to the nurturing of next generations of Austin growers (his son, David Austin Jr. now heads up the company, and grandson, Richard is part of the team), Austin Sr. has been a family man.  He died at home, surrounded by family.  

 David Austin (1926 - 2018)  Rest in Peace

Photographs Copyrights of:  Ruth Adams, Widow's Endorphins Photographic Images Incorporated

Widow's Endorphins: Living Coral, and Why You'll be Seeing This Colour...

Widow's Endorphins: Living Coral, and Why You'll be Seeing This Colour...: Tropical coral - urbanized.  That's the vibe around this year's Pantone Colour of the Year,  Living Coral,   an orange base ...

Living Coral, and Why You'll be Seeing This Colour Everywhere

Tropical coral - urbanized.  That's the vibe around this coming year's Pantone Colour of the Year, Living Coral,  an orange base with gold undertones.  It is the colour of unbleached coral, sunsets and sunrises.  Pantone executives, who search the world for colour trends in film, art galleries, on the streets, and on the catwalks, say the world needs this warm and welcoming colour right now.

The Executive Director of the Pantone Colour Institute, Leatrice Eiseman says Living Coral, "represents a feeling that's out there in the zeitgeist".  In these troubled times, who doesn't love watching a sunrise or sunset?

Critics point out the irony of surrounding ourselves with painted walls, furniture, coffee mugs, and clothing in Greenery (2017) and Living Coral (2019) colours, when the planet's forests and coral are disappearing.  It is as if we are finding comfort in, and surrounding ourselves with the very colours which are disappearing in nature.

The Great Barrier Reef, is the world's largest coral reef system.  It's so big, you can see it from outer space!  In 2015, there were 2 billion living corals in the reef.  Half of them are now dead!  That's in just over two years.  

What happened?  Two back to back bleaching events in the Summers of 2016, and 2017 caused a fifty percent decline in corals across the 14-hundred mile stretch of Australian coastline.  Bleaching isn't like dropping Clorox into the ocean, it has to do with killing off the photosynthetic algae (zooxanthellae) which attaches itself to the coral, and gives the coral its colour. The algae "nest" in the coral, and feed the coral through photosynthesis.  With ocean temperatures rising, the coral panic, and eject the algae, leaving the coral colourless.  Without the algae, the now bleach-white coral soon dies. 

Pantone's Vice President, Laurie Pressman says, "with everything that's going on today...we're looking toward those colours that bring nourishment and the comfort and familiarity that make us feel good".  Pressman says this year's colour is, "not too heavy.  We want to play.  We want to be uplifted.  It's the emotional nourishment.  It's the big hug."  Maybe more than a big hug, orange is the colour of the second Chakra which has to do with sex...and creativity.

 

 

Photographs Copyright of:  Ruth Adams, Widow's Endorphins Photographic Images Incorporated.

Widow's Endorphins: Kick Up Your Heels!

Widow's Endorphins: Kick Up Your Heels!: I can always tell who the December tourists and newcomers are.  They're the women in sexy, spike heeled boots trying to run throu...

Kick Up Your Heels!

I can always tell who the December tourists and newcomers are.  They're the women in sexy, spike heeled boots trying to run through snow and ice.  It's not long before they're wearing solid, dependable boots just like the rest of us.    

After years of wearing practical, sturdy, manly boots, I finally found a pair of boots that are feminine and practical.  They're black leather, with a solid heel and great treads!  Treads are like snow tires on your feet.  For readers in Australia, and South America, you need treads for traction on snow and ice.  I fractured my shoulder last Christmas, slipping on an invisible stretch of ice on a downtown Toronto street.  It didn't help that the treads on my boots had worn down.  No more slipping on the ice for me! 

I turn over every boot in shoe stores, looking for the price, sure...and the treads on the sole.  Sometimes, they're too wide around the rim of the boot, and you can trip over your own feet.  Sometimes, they're too thin, and will wear out before the season is over.  Sometimes, they're stacked so high even Elton John wouldn't walk around in them.

My little black boots are feminine, and stylish enough to wear indoors, with a dress or mini-skirt; or outdoors with cords, two sweaters, possibly a lightweight vest, a heavy overcoat, scarf, gloves, a hat, and a partridge in a pear tree.  Toronto fashionistas call it "layering", the rest of us, call it survival.  The boots are designed in Montreal, and made in Spain.  They have a decorative and practical leather loop at the back of the heel, which you can use to help pull up the boot, as you play do-it-yourself-Cinderella. 

I've broken-in a few pairs hiking boots, so it was no surprise to experience pain on the very first daywearing the lovely black leather beauties.  The worst of the pain was at the back of my right ankle, just above the heel...just about where that little leather loop is stitched to the inside of the boot. 

The enormous blister, behind my right ankle, just above the heel was a shock!  My years of caregiving came into play, in making a homemade dressing for the blister, covering it with gauze and medical tape before slipping on the boots for a quick trip to the grocery store the next day. 

I walked gingerly up the street, and limped back home.  The bandages had curled up, and come off, and the now exposed blister was rubbing against the inside of the boot. The next dressing was nothing short of a medical miracle!  It was twice as big as the first one, and covered in a waterproof, tear proof medical tape.  It was as if I were channeling Florence Nightengale.   

Stepping into my boots on day three, my right foot came to an abrupt stop.  The uber dressing was too thick!  Like one of Cinderella's ugly step-sisters, I wrestled getting my foot into the boot.  There was no point in searching for a shoe horn, because months ago, I had given them all away...because I NEVER use them!  Then, in stroke of pure genius (hold the applause), I thought of using a plain old kitchen soup spoon.  The spoon slid in behind my heel, and with a gentle grunt, and an oomph, my right foot now matched my booted left one.  Ta-da!

The spoon, however, remained stuck inside the boot.   For three frantic minutes, I fought with the spoon, turning it right, left, up and down, fearing that I'd have to walk with the damn thing up the back of my boots, or worse - sleep with my boots on!  (This is too funny:  I always write with music on...right now...exactly now, Marc Broussard is singing Twistin' the Night Away).  Finally, a few squiggles to the left, and a hard tug upwards, and the little spoon may yet join a Zydeco band!

As I write, I'm wearing my oh-so-comfortable Brazilian flip-flops...the boots will take a few more days to break-in.

If you're wondering about the peignoirs featured in this blogpost about boots, I designed each one from my photographs.  They not only look fabulous in the bedroom, they can be worn over a dress like a kimono jacket.  Wear them with a mini-skirt and high boots!  Kick up your heels, and go out on the town!  Boots and peignoirs - a perfect match!

All of the peignoirs can be found here:
http://bit.do/peignoirs

The marijuana motif peignoirs are sold through Stolbie Brand.  The Stolbie Sisters' company "for the socially a-wear", plants a tree in British Columbia, Canada. for every item sold on their site.  Please support them in the work they do.  Here's the link:
https://www.stolbiebrand.com/

 

Photographs Copyright of Ruth Adams, Widow's Endorphins Photographic Images Incorporated