Ninety-two years ago tomorrow …

Tomorrow’s my mother’s birthday.  She loved celebrating her birthday.  Even when she got older.  Especially when she got older.  She delighted in telling people chocolateher age; and loved their reactions.

Because no one ever believed it.

She looked considerably younger, but I think the main reason everyone stared at her in disbelief was her ‘spirit’, which was probably about thirty years younger than she was.  At least.  Her zest for life, her curiosity, her willingness to try new things, her open mind, her determination, her sense of humour, her giggle, the twinkle in her eye, her energy, her positive attitude all kept her young.

One of her greatest pleasures was eating chocolate.  You could see the look of rapture on her face the minute she bit into one.  And to her, it didn’t matter — it could have been a handful of chocolate chips or a candy Continue reading

Moments in time …

It’s interesting, the things we remember from long ago. Really long, like our childhood. And what triggers those memories. Last week I called my aunt. The flashbackslast of my mother’s sisters who’s still alive. She’s far from young now and not so well and I guess, when I got off the phone, I was a bit melancholy. Ours had been such a large, and close knit family and there’s not many left.

I didn’t think much about it right after the call, but I guess it must have been weighing on my mind. Because days later, while reading, I suddenly had a flashback. I was really young, maybe three or four, five at the most. I was in a car. My grandfather was driving. My father was in the passenger seat. My aunt, this same aunt, her fiancé (very recent) and I were all sharing the back seat.

Like most little kids I was jabbering away. It was clear this was not my aunt’s idea of heaven. I could tell because she sighed a lot,

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Day 139. My Outtakes

When you’re making films, television programs and even commercials there are always portions of the work that don’t make it into the final product.  They end up film‘on the cutting room floor’.  They’re the ‘outtakes’.

It’s not that anything’s necessarily ‘wrong’ with them.  When the editor and director sit down to put it all together, they just may not ‘fit’.  There may be better versions of a particular scene or performance.  And sometimes they’re mistakes.  When actors flub their lines.  Or when the unexpected happens at precisely the moment when the cameras are rolling.  Bloopers.  And blunders.

They don’t all end up in the trash.  More and more, we’re seeing them added to DVDs, as special features.  And sometimes they’re included at the very end of the film, as part of the ‘credits’.  We enjoy them, because it’s a peek behind the scenes.  And it’s also a chance to witness a slice of someone else’s reality.

I think the same thing happens in ‘life’.  Not every moment of our existence is captured in perpetuity.  We don’t Continue reading