Fall in Line: Autumn’s Arrival is the Apple of My Eye

Fall — in all its colourful splendor — is the best time of year.                                                                                                            Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Fall officially arrived in my neck of the woods last weekend, and it was a great relief for me having felt out of season all year – something I largely blame on the weather.

‘Out-of-season’ seasons describe the conditions we’ve endured in this area in 2018. Winter never seemed to take root here – there were short periods of snow and cold (a polar vortex thrown in for good measure too), but these were quickly followed by warm spells that melted most of the white stuff. My family likes to snowshoe, so the opportunities to do so were limited this winter.

Spring was slow to arrive, and then stayed briefly when it did get here. It was soon replaced by a torrid summer featuring very hot and dry conditions, punctuated by sweltering, higher-than-normal temperatures lasting weeks on ends that fried people, pets and plants alike.

September usually provides some relief from the heat, but extreme summer-like temperatures have persisted well into this month. Thankfully, that seems to finally be changing with fall’s official arrival. More seasonal temperatures are here, and the relief is palpable to me… for that is part of the appeal and charm of autumn.

Cooler temperatures, stunning vistas of colourful fall foliage, pumpkin pie, piles of raked leaves (ideal for jumping into), and family hikes in the woods make fall my favourite time of year. Throw Thanksgiving and Halloween into the mix – and a few of my family’s fall traditions – and the season is even more meaningful.

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Of our fall traditions, my absolute favourite is when we go apple picking in late September or early October. The tradition actually predates my wife and I meeting – prior to that, she and her parents would go apple picking at a nearby orchard. Upon meeting my wife and becoming part of the family, I took the apple-picking tradition as my own…. and I’ve never looked back.

With my son’s arrival 18 years ago, the apple-picking outing has become even more enjoyable. Each year, we will go into the orchard and find our ideal apple to pick. Usually it is the ‘Empire’ variety, and we will quickly fill our half-bushel bag with juicy, bright red apples. The trees remain laden with fruit, so there is always the temptation to pick an extra one or two and enjoy it (them) right there in the middle of the orchard.

At the apple farm we visit annually, there is also a ‘How Tall Are You This Fall?’ sign with a scarecrow on it. We get our son to stand by the sign, and measure out how tall he has grown over the past year. Now in his late teens, our son has put up more protest in recent years at having to pose for the photo – but he usually caves, and we have our image for that year.

The trip also includes a visit to a nearby historic mill; it is still operational and sells a variety of items. If the weather permits, we also have an outdoor picnic lunch (complete with fresh donuts) at a beautiful garden just a short drive away from the mill.

Take my advice, and get out to enjoy this most excellent of seasons. From my experience, fall doesn’t stay long… and sure leaves in a hurry!

Absolutely Priceless: Simple Objects With Lots of Meaning

They’re not much to look at, but these items hold special meaning.

I came across a Guardian newspaper article from a few years that urged readers to share their “objects of love” through photos and stories. The call for submissions – coming fittingly in the lead up to Valentine’s Day – noted items might be “a particularly touching card, a gift that has grown in sentimental value over the year, or a simple memento of a special moment.”

The call elicited a few responses, including a woman sharing a touching retirement card given to her by her son… as well as a university student posting a drawing made by his girlfriend (studying far away at another school) that was meant to remind him of her.

I’ve been thinking recently about meaningful items in my own life and came up with four that – at first glance – don’t look like much. To some, they might resemble two-thirds of a child’s game… rock, paper, but no scissors (instead substitute a tie clip and old, beaten-up cookie tin). But below the surface, these simple objects do carry plenty of meaning for me. Here’s why:

An old, beat-up cookie tin.

1. Cookies anyone? The green cookie tin is scratched, dented and missing the floral emblem at the centre of its cover. It’s seen better days, but even with that, it’s also one of the dearest items I own. If you open the tin, and put your nose close inside, you can still faintly catch the smell of Dutch windmill cookies – or speculaas. My grandmother (we called her Oma) kept the tin in her kitchen, and would allow me and the other grandkids to take one cookie each when we came to visit. I got the cookie tin a few years ago after my grandfather died – my grandmother had passed away some years earlier – and feel very fortunate I did. When I see (and smell inside) the tin, it takes me back to a favourite childhood memory. 

A rock solid gift from the heart.

2. Gift from the heart! Of all the presents my wife has given me over the years, one of the most precious is a… stone. Upon closer examination, the stone has an interesting heart shape – and that’s what caught my wife’s eye when she randomly discovered it four years ago while walking along the beach of a lakeside community we often visit. After etching the name of the community and year on it, she presented it to me as a gift… from the heart so to speak. It means a lot to me, and I keep the stone on my desk at work as a memento of our love.

An item to book my place.

3. Marking my progress! I know people (I’m one of them) who keep ‘gifts’ their young children made for them… items like drawings, crafts and other artwork. You look back with nostalgia at them, especially when your child is older. I’ve stashed away a few things my son has made me over the years, but the most cherished item is a well-used, bent bookmark he made for me one Father’s Day many years ago. I still use the bookmark to keep my place in books, and am reminded each time I look at it that maybe, just maybe, I didn’t screw up too badly raising my son. On the back, the bookmark includes stickers from the movie Cars (a favourite movie of his as a kid); the most poignant words are spelled out at front: “To Dad, from your son. I love you.”

A cherished fashion accessory.

4. Ties that bind. I don’t have much opportunity to wear ties these days, but when I do, I try to include this item as a fashion accessory. It’s an old tie clip that my father gave me when I was younger, on or around the time I finally grasped his directions in how to tie a tie (no mean feat, I must say). The tie clip holds extra meaning for me, as it also has a wheat stock motif on it – fitting because my father worked as a baker all his life.

It’s funny to think these four items represent some of my most prized possessions. I won’t get rich selling them, but that’s not the point. Their value comes in the emotions and memories they represent which – to me – make them priceless!

In Passing: Sharing Her Passion by Dispensing the ‘Vacs’

You have (depressing) mail.

The email was a shocker – the news of someone’s death usually is – but it was even more unexpected coming only weeks after I had seen this retired co-worker drop by the office. On that occasion, ‘Lana’ was in good spirits, and greeted me with a smile and warm hello.

Four years ago, my workplace held a send-off party for Lana. Then in her late 60s, she was looking forward to spending more time with her husband in retirement, as well as enjoying her new ‘career’ as a full-time grandmother.

This week’s email alerting my workplace of Lana’s passing was most unfortunate. At age 72, I’m sure she was counting on more time to spend with her family.

I didn’t work directly with Lana. She was a nursing manager, while I did (still do) corporate communications. Our paths might cross four or five times a month when Lana and her staff needed help for program promotion or developing public education campaigns. I usually knocked on Lana’s office door when I needed help to respond to journalists’ questions about her program area.

At work, Lana was always very pleasant, prepared and informed; but over time, she also developed a reputation for being cautious and – at times – indecisive. This could have repercussions, especially if projects had tight deadlines or in situations that required immediate action.

However, the trait I will always most associate with Lana is her PASSION for a topic near and dear to her heart – the need for people to be fully vaccinated. I only discovered this passion some years ago when Lana did an on-camera interview with a local TV station on the need to vaccinate children.

Typically, it was labour intensive for me to help Lana prepare for any media interview. We’d go over the journalist’s questions, come up with suggested responses, and then try turning that into two or three key messages (or sound bites). On occasion, I’d do a ‘mock’ interview with Lana – pretending to be the journalist asking her questions and then critiquing her answers afterwards. I recall for this TV interview, there was considerable prep work I did with Lana.

As the TV interview began, Lana stuck to her script – almost too well – in responding to the journalist. After each question, Lana would look down at the notes that she had prepared for the interview, ensuring she had all her points, and then respond to the journalist. It was not ideal, but Lana was adamant she wouldn’t do the interview unless she had notes in hand – her security blanket so to speak.

I will always remember the point in the TV interview when the reporter asked Lana why people should be vaccinated when most diseases they protect against are no longer a threat. It was like a light bulb went on, and Lana jumped on the question. Not using a word we had scripted, Lana spoke off the cuff in a passionate, genuine and confident tone that I’ve never – in nearly 20 years doing corporate communications – seen another person come close to approaching in responding to a media interview.

Making a point about the need for vaccination.

Lana recalled growing up in the 1950s when many of today’s vaccine-preventable diseases were very real and dangerous to people. She recalled her experiences of seeing a friend develop polio and watching a close relative succumb to another disease we take for granted today. Lana spoke about complacency — not disease — being the biggest threat to our health from people who do not see a need for vaccines. Instead of criticizing or undermining vaccination, Lana noted how blessed and privileged we are in this day and age to have life-saving vaccines available for everyone.

Lana’s unflinching, unscripted, passionate argument for vaccines was a hit with the journalist, who used the bulk of the interview segment for the piece he filed that night on the local TV newscast.

Anti-vaxxers can be very effective and convincing in their beliefs, but Lana could give back as good as she got in making the point vaccines are safe and effective.

Ironically, a day after reading the email about Lana’s death, I came across an online news item detailing a World Health Organization report that blamed a deadly surge of measles in Europe this summer on low rates of vaccination. It seems part of people’s reluctance to vaccinate came from their online and social media networks. According to one researcher, “if more than 25 per cent of an online network were anti-vaxxers or people skeptical of vaccines, a parent will put off immunizing their child even if they originally believed in the importance of vaccines.”

I’m certain Lana – full of passion – would have something to say to that. Unfortunately, her voice is now silenced… and we’re poorer for her passing.

Who Cares? Acts of Kindness a Great Way to Brighten Someone’s Day

Show some heart… an act of kindness is where it’s at!!

It’s been a few weeks since we had to put down our cat, Shadow, so it was odd to receive mail recently from our veterinarian. My first reaction was: “We’ve paid the vet already… what do they want now?”

A card of sympathy to brighten one’s day.

My harsh reaction soon had me eating humble pie. The mail from our vet wasn’t a bill, but in fact a card of sympathy, in which was written: “We are so sorry for your loss of Shadow. We hope the fond memories you have with her will help to comfort you during this difficult time.”

The card certainly brightened my day and I felt ashamed over what I thought it would be. This reaction was similar to when a long-time charity we’ve supported called up a few months ago. Thinking the charity was hitting us up for more money, I replied curtly: “We just gave!” The volunteer representing the charity responded patiently that he was just calling to personally thank us for our ongoing support.

 

Why do we (or is it maybe me?) think the worst when someone comes calling to talk or interact? Are our expectations of people so low that we always think they are just after something or will dump bad news on us?

Maybe that’s what makes acts of kindness so surprising and shocking? We don’t expect them and are left stunned when they occur, as it did for me with our vet and charity.

To me, genuine or random acts of kindness are ones that just happen without fanfare. They don’t have to be boasted about on Facebook or commemorated with a selfie. And they certainly have to be well meaning and thought out, unlike the recent crowdfunding effort to help celebrity Kylie Jenner become the youngest billionaire ever.

I’m not suggesting you have to pay for the person’s order behind you at the coffee shop drive-thru (some people do this randomly, and more power to them). An act of kindness might be saying something nice to a co-worker experiencing a bad day, or helping to shovel out a neighbour’s driveway after a big snowstorm.

A few weeks ago, after visiting our son’s new university, we were going back to our car to head home. We had paid for an hour’s worth of parking, and still had half of it left on our pay-and-display parking pass. Instead of recycling the pass, my better half suggested we offer it to a motorist who had just pulled into a parking spot near us. I went over to the person and offered the pass with its half-hour time remaining on it. The wary look on the motorist’s face as I approached turned to a beaming smile as she realized what I was saying.

I thank my wife for suggesting this idea, because I walked away from this encounter with an equally big smile on my face.

Acts of kindness don’t need to be exotic, exhaustive or expensive. But trying one here and there can be truly beneficial for the giver and receiver, especially knowing that in the hustle and bustle of life, people still care and are willing to help out.

Who cares? We all should, so why not try out kindness on someone today!!

Class Act: A Study in Contrast as ‘Junior’ Starts University

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

On the day after Labour Day, we have a tradition at our house – or at least my wife and son do, as I’ve usually left for work already. With a new school year dawning, my wife has her camera in hand ready to snap the annual picture of our son heading off to class.

The smile is usually the same each September; the noticeable difference is how tall our son has grown over the years. He’s reaching even loftier heights in 2018, as he starts university this week.

I’ve written a previous blog post about how it just seems like yesterday that our son started Kindergarten. Now, as my wife takes his picture again this year, our son will be seeking success at the post-secondary level. He is still at home however, opting to study at the university located in our city. His commute is cross-town, hopping two buses to get to his destination.

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

At the end of August, we were at his university (my wife’s alma mater by the way) finalizing his tuition payment, picking up his transit pass, purchasing some of his course textbooks, and getting a refresher tour (courtesy of my wife) of the campus.

That day’s experience proved be an eye-popping one for me, especially when comparing my own memories starting university nearly 30 years ago. A few observations to consider:

• One year’s university tuition for our son will cost more than the entire amount I racked up getting my post-secondary degree. Even factoring in the rate of inflation, the tuition costs today seem exorbitant.
• The transit pass our son will use to get to school is included in his tuition; mine was not. And while my pass was a paper ‘pass’, our son’s is paperless… a digital imprint on his mobile device that he must flash to the bus driver.
• When it comes to getting text books in 2018, the options are endless for our son compared to what I had starting university in 1989. Today, it’s rent or buy? And if buy, do you want a print or digital version? And if you’re still ‘old’ school and want an actual print textbook, is it to be new or used? And if the text book isn’t in yet, do you want to pay for it now and receive an email notification to alert you when it’s at the university bookstore for pickup? I’m sure by the time our son graduates, there will be an additional option to have a drone deliver any outstanding textbooks to the student’s residence.
• My son’s newly-purchased sleek, stylish laptop with enhanced processing power blows out of the water what I took to university with me. Back then, my parents’ gift to me going to school was the purchase of a brand-new typewriter on which I could crank out my university essays and papers. At the time, I thought my typewriter was pretty cool and high-tech, especially with its automatic correction key and small digital screen in which you could fit almost an entire sentence!!
• Orientation for new students is a lot more educational and extensive. While mine consisted of hazing and drinking, my son gets to meet his profs, tour campus, get tips about transition to university from upper-year students, take part in team-building activities and much more.

Perspective is everything, and over three decades, things are sure to change. Still, the comparison between today and yesteryear are, you might say, a sharp study in contrast!