"The happiest moments of my life have been the few which I have passed
at home in the bosom of my family."
— Thomas Jefferson

I had forgotten what a vacation can do to spruce up your well-being. It’s amazing how there’s an entire new world out there--a much larger one than the seventeen-inch-square window to cyberspace that I’m immersed in most of the time while at my computer. Our recent trip home to visit my family in St. Paul, Alberta, Canada blew the cobwebs from my weary psyche and allowed me to observe humanity in a new light.

We haven't traveled by air since 9/11 and now I know why. Surviving the annoying reality of today’s stepped-up security in airports, having our shoes x-rayed, and being asked for our identification about five times before we ever got on the plane was other than fun. I swear, I wanted to duct tape my weary passport photo and driver’s license to my forehead after a while! When we finally were airborne, an unusually clear day provided breathtaking views of Mother Earth’s varied personalities. Leaving the beauty of Arizona’s rugged, barren deserts and deep carved canyons behind, we were in for a visual feast over the Northwest. Rocky Road ice-cream mountain peaks topped with a whipped cream froth of snow were sprinkled with glimmering turquoise glacial lakes. Then the ancient slopes gave way to the patchwork quilt of prairie farmlands, randomly stitched with curving, meandering streams and rivers. You can’t imagine how many shades of green there are until you fly over the Canadian heartland! I noticed how the modest farms of my youth have evolved from two-story homes surrounded by charming red and white barns. They now resemble industrial parks with huge steel sheds and sprawling custom ranch homes. The weathered, leaning, old gray wooden granaries have been replaced with gleaming silos and rows of circular steel granaries pointed toward the sky like a NASA launch site.

We settled into our rental car and began the three-hour drive on the TransCanada Highway to my little hometown. I immediately was impressed with how clean the roadsides were. The wild hay in the wide ditches was freshly mowed and free from litter. I compared this pristine view with our Arizona roadsides and was ashamed at the constant litter of bottles, cans, disposable diapers, plastic bags, construction debris and yes, even hit-and-run mattresses and furniture. The lush greenery of the prairies isn’t a scene you just SEE, it’s more like a chlorophyll chelation therapy that seeps into your veins. You FEEL it nourishing and sustaining your city-parched soul.

There’s no more luscious moment than arriving in the driveway of family members you haven’t seen in a few years, and to see them excitedly waiting for you, smiles and arms stretched wide. We stayed with my sister and her husband, who have the warmest, coziest log home on a country acreage. Wrapped in the embrace of those huge honey-colored logs, we felt safe from the world. My sister had a huge roaster full of homemade Ukrainian cabbage rolls waiting on the stove and my entire dinner consisted of standing there talking
and laughing with her while I scarfed down dozens of these delectable beauties right out of the pan. Bye bye Dr. Atkins! Rice never tasted better! No side
dishes needed!

Our week flew by too quickly as I drank in the joy of our family gatherings with Dad and my other siblings. Dad proudly displayed all his latest garage sale and auction sale finds. He mentioned that he found some of my Mom's old hats, some with price tags still on them! I held my breath and asked whether there might be a RED hat, which I could have for my Red Hat Society meetings. To our great delight, we found one! So now, my dearly deceased Mom can be an honorary member of our Red Hat Society chapter! We enjoyed touring the newly constructed museum building that has been my Dad's passion for many years. It just barely opened for the public and still needs some display and cataloging work, but WOW! What a legacy of beautiful antiques and history has been compiled for the community! Good portions of them have little tags saying, "Donated by Robert Lamoureux." I am so proud of my Dad's contributions and hard work on this worthwhile project.

One of the highlights of this vacation was seeing my Aunt Germaine Lamoureux, after whom I was named. She is a retired nun from the Assumption Order of the Catholic Church. Aunty spent 50 years teaching in Japan and her life stories are spellbinding! I had not seen her since I was a little girl of 5 or 6, when I was enchanted with her at that first meeting. And today, I am even more enchanted with this beautiful, gentle soul. It is my greatest honor to carry her name.

We had a birthday party for my Dad's 87th, complete with party hats, kazoos and strawberry shortcake. Dad was just glowing at the end of the day, saying, "This has been the BEST day of my life! The only thing that would have made it better is if Lionel (my brother) could have been here." Lionel lives in British Columbia and his work commitments prevented him from coming. He's always the life of the party at our family gatherings and he claims that WE give him all the comic material he needs to work with! He AND his unique brand of humor were sorely missed.

Getting away from the "Techno Life" of computers, e-mail and cell phones somehow softened my heart, allowing me to NOTICE things about people and their lives. Old-fashioned values DO exist out there, despite what the media would have us think. I noticed things like COMMITMENT when my oldest brother and his wife traveled from British Columbia to be with us. He has emphysema and has to be on oxygen full-time. It was so touching to watch his wife care for him...everything from refilling his portable oxygen tank to assembling and disassembling his battery-operated scooter so he could get around. My sister's husband also is a devoted, caring partner. He injected her rheumatoid arthritis Enbrel™ medication twice a week while I stood in the background and screamed in pain for her! We all should have such dedicated partners who understand the vows of "for better or for worse." While having lunch with a high-school girlfriend, I observed the opposite of this fading value. During my visit with her two years ago, she proudly showed me the beautiful wedding photos of her two oldest children. This time, she sadly reported that both already were divorced. Their vows lasted seven months and two years, respectively (in a time period when marriages usually are in the "better" phase).

My relaxed and expanded vision allowed me to observe so many things: My Dad’s DEDICATION to his museum project, the PRIDE people take in their verdant yards and gardens, the GENEROSITY of the Ukrainian neighbor who gave up her LAST roaster of cabbage rolls so we could enjoy a feast, the TENACITY of my nephew who is rebuilding his life after going down a wayward path for a while, the DEVOTION and SACRIFICE my Aunty Germaine displayed in her fifty-year career as a teacher and spiritual guide, and the ENDURANCE and STOIC-NESS of my aging siblings battling health declines. My sister and her husband are raising their nine-year-old granddaughter part of the time and they display the most amazing PATIENCE and UNCONDITIONAL LOVE I've ever seen!

The tears that I knew would come at some point during the week flooded forth at an unexpected moment. Not when we hugged our sad goodbyes. Not when the gravel crunched under our tires as we left the driveways of our loved ones' homes. It happened while we were sitting in my Dad’s living room on the morning of our departure. His dozens of wall clocks and grandfather clocks ticked and tocked away the precious few hours left for our visit. Dad slipped away to the kitchen and grabbed his harmonica. Then, with every fiber of his thin, little 120-pound body, he began to play a zesty tune, tapping his stocking-clad foot on the kitchen linoleum, swaying his bony shoulders to the beat. His 87-year-young JOY OF SPIRIT spilled into my heart. I wanted to permanently record the tracks of his self-composed tune and spontaneous performance on the grooves of my memory. I don’t know when I’ll see Dad again, but I will always reach for this virtual DVD as the way that I want to remember him. When we attended Sunday services together at the Catholic church he faithfully attends, I found this poem in the well-worn song book tucked away in the pew rack. It reminds me that we should live more of the expanded "vacation life" all the time. See more, notice more, experience more, feel more. We should let our caged songbirds SING loudly and triumphantly. And if we can’t sing, well, maybe we can learn to play a harmonica. Just like my Dad.

Life's Song

Don’t let your life misrepresent your song.
Sing with your voice.
Sing with your heart.
Sing with your mouth.
But especially sing with your whole life.

http://www.magnetizingyourheartsdesire.com/