Standing on the Shoulders of Dorrit Nash

I thought the highlight of October was going to a Zoomer presentation by founder Moses Znaimer. I've joined the national organisation and am slowly working towards starting up a Fredericton chapter. All good stuff.

I was wrong.

This week began the two-week book launch tour of Melynda Jarratt's non-fiction book: "Captured Hearts".

The day of her Fredericton book signing , October 30th, would have been the 85th birthday of one of her subjects: my mother, Dorrit.

Melynda is an international expert on Canadian war brides. She profiles over 60 war brides in her book. What joy and pride I felt, at her reading, to hear Mum singled out.

More than a few people came up to me at the reception following -journalists, historians, and just regular folk, to tell me they had read Melynda's book, and that my mother's story is stunning, in many respects.

Mum's war bride experience gets introduced on page 94: "One of the most extraordinary stories to come out of the European continent involves a young Jewish woman from Vienna.". Little snapshots of her life follow, until the last paragraph: "In life, Dorrit's country and family had been taken from her. It would not be so in death."

How true are those words, these days.

The toll since Mum's death in September of last year has been emotional, profound, and of late, more cathartic than I could ever have imagined.

The film documentary about Mum- being researched as we speak - will continue to share her remarkable journey. Researchers and historians are retracing her steps, and updating me along the way. It looks like I will "cross the pond", as they say, to see where she met my Dad in London. There will be a visit to Vienna, her birthplace, too. So many adventures ahead..!

My friendships are deepening. I work at it. It is a gift, just like my mother,that I do not take for granted.
My teaching job is fulfilling and dynamic. My health is great. And my circles are expanding.
What a year...!

P.S. This is the actual "Captured Hearts" book launch:

http://charlesotherpersonality.blogspot.com/2008/11/book-launch-was-very-fancy-event.html

One More Week, Day (September Version)

In one more week
- my new teaching contract will be in effect.
- I will be employed for another year, at a place I enjoy.
- fall, my favorite season, will begin moving towards full colour panorama.
- my calendar will NOT be filled with lunch dates with good friends, cause I want to shed a few pounds before Christmas.
- it will be time to be creative and varied in my new social calendar.
- I will be back at the gym, and it will be a pleasure.
- it will be one week closer to my 2-week holiday in Nassau.

In one more day, I hope I will be wiser, happier, smarter, and
...grateful to have one more day.

Yahrzeit

The actual ceremonial prayers and such took less than a half hour, but it has given me a peace I wasn't expecting.
Each person of the dozen or so who came remembered something about Mum.
Then I repeated the Kaddish for the first time in my whole life. Lightning didn't strike, so I guess my unrehearsed pronunciation was okay.
Afterwards, we all went to Tim Hortons and laughed and chatted over coffee and muffins.
New friends were made. Old ones deepened.
My mother is everywhere.
And I mean that in a good way, today.

Yep, it's My Birthday

This is one of those rare occasions where I will look back a bit farther than I usually do.
I am one of those Satchell Paige ("Don't look back..etc..") believers.
That said, what better time than one's b-day - other than New Year's eve, maybe - to talk about perspective....?

A year ago at this time, I was frantically running between daily visits to my mother in intensive care, and trying to hang onto a part-time job. My nerves were shot, I was really, really broke, and feeling isolated and overwhelmed.

A few months later, I had not even begun to grieve fully the loss of my mother, and was trying to find my feet as the only Anglo French teacher at a small private school.

That's when I was diagnosed with squamous cell carcinoma.

Christmas was a bust. For the first time, my lovely apartment felt very very small, as I felt trapped during home confinement while recovering from a skin graft....not that I wasn't acutely aware and amazed they got all the cancer cells in time, mind you.

So today, on my latest birthday, there is much to celebrate: I am

- walking, talking, smiling (sometimes simultaneously !);

- sipping on a Tim's (if you're a Canuck, you know what I mean) - thanks for the gift card, Auntie Vi;

- being treated to yet another lunch and dinner, each with a different good friend. There have been many such meals, of late, which tells me that I have established a good circle of friends in this small town of mine;

- planning Mum's yahrzeit - that's a whole story in itself, of new angels in my life.

And last but least....I am amazed at the grace that is constantly insinuating itself into my life....wow!

In One More Day, Week

In one more week
- my teaching contract will be over.
- I will be unemployed.
- summer will be in full bloom.
- my calendar will be filled with lunch dates with good friends.
- I will be back at the gym, and it will be a pleasure.
- it will be one week closer to my 2-week holiday in Nassau.

In one more day, I hope I will be wiser, happier, smarter, and
...grateful to have one more day.

Springing into new things, this Spring

Snow is gone.Warm weather.
Mum's book and documentary discussed round table with the players a few times. Slow but lovely going.
Joined L.A. Weight Loss.
Am dabbling with the idea of a new job.
Got income tax refund. (!)
Life good. Call now.

History Comes Alive

Yes, many moons since my last blog, but this was worth the wait.
My teaching contract ends in a few months. I've enjoyed the work and people. We'll see what happens next re that.
But here is the big - really big, news:
My mother. Dorrit Nash, will soon be a chapter (not a page...a chapter!) in a book about Canadian war brides..!
And this very year, some of her letters, photos, and other effects from WW2 will be displayed in a panel at the local museum.
She does not go gently into that good night, after all.
That's my Mum..!