Friends

Yesterday was full of friends. During a conversation with Lynn and Linda at the little cottage in the woods, I recalled the last phrase my Mother said to me. In 1973 my Mother gave up on life. You see, that year my Father passed away from a dastardly battle with lung cancer. Mom's spirit left her that early morning around 3:13 a.m. Mom and Dad had been inseparable. One could only wish for that kind of love. They were married shortly before my Father and his brothers and their friends gladly enlisted to fight in WWII. Good, young PEI boys. Mom and Dad finally settled in Pictou, where my Mom kept house and my Father worked in the fish plant. Eventually for Mom, a diagnosis of dementia overcame her. My brother John and I had the opportunity to drive Mom to the Hospital from which she would never leave. As I was helping her from the car that day I took her hand. It was cold. I mentioned that to her. She looked at me with her beautiful, but sad blue eyes and said "Cold hands, warm heart". This phrase swept over me yesterday as I was filling Lynn and Linda in on my latest life energy balancing session with Kathy at Spirit Garden. Listening to my heart is a big, big part of my healing. My heart, I know, has the power to heal my body. A warm heart. A loving heart. Mom's words came flooding back.

Last evening I had the pleasure of Shaun and Ross's company for a fabulous meal on Sinclair's Island. Mom Nature offered a one-of-a kind soundtrack for that meal, in a cottage overlooking the Northumberland Strait. Honey was spoiled with love and food. What occurred to me then, and not for the first time, but with a more profound understanding, was that my Father passed away in his 49th year. His 49th year! Too young. I have out lived my Father. We were talking about our families and the legacies they have left for us. In that thunder and lightning I could almost hear his voice and his fiddle - he was a dandy player: a PEI player - they have their own style. He had his own style. Music is a long legacy I recalled: my great, great grandfather was the choir master in a little church on the Island, leading his choir with the benefit of a tuning fork. We sat in candlelight, listening to some awesome blues, eventually talking about how easily we let things slip away. And about listening to our hearts and getting ourselves back in line with our dreams and our goals. Cause it's fleeting. Get out there and grab it with all the strength you have.

Okay enough of that.

Have a great one - I'm going to sing at 11:30, getting ready for fellowship on Sunday morning as we welcome everyone back from summer break.

Peace to you. Love,

Emma Lee

Friends.