HAPPY NEW YEAR 2015.... SIGNS IN THE UNIVERSE AND CLOSER

Another year bites the dust.  Happy New Year and Welcome to 2015. 

Christmas and New Years are always such a weird time. All kinds of emotions swimming about.  This was Husband and my first Christmas in the UK together.  Out with old, in with the new, letting go of stuff we'd rather forget, looking forward to...

Here at the Pink Cottage the holiday is especially tinged with emotion.  Four years ago this week Husband's sweet and eccentric sister, not yet out of her forties, passed away, starting a train of events that ultimately led us here.

Heather

 

Sister-In-Law was a bit of a collector, and among the things she collected was Christmas paraphernalia.  She loved Christmas, like a kid loves Christmas.  She decorated her home so there was barely enough free surface space to put down a coffee cup.  Trinkets bobbled and tinsel glittered.  If she could have she would have left the decorations up all year round... sometimes she did.  It was always Christmas in her heart.  So, we decided our Christmas ritual will now include leaving our decorations up until January the 8th, the anniversary of her death.

I Love Christmas!

 

Christmas day was stunning.  Blue skies with voluptuous clouds floating across the horizon.  We walked up to the top of the Polden Hills to the Hood Monument lookout and Husband drifted some of her ashes to the wind in a spot overlooking the Glastonbury Tor.  Sister-in-law was made for Glastonbury, she would have loved it.  Now a little part of her will always have it in view.  When we come back to Somerset after a trip, the sight of the Tor is a sign that we are not far from home.  Now it has other meanings too.

Husband and his Sister

Aren't we always looking for signs, little signals portending good things, giving us a feeling that luck is on our side, or that someone might be watching out for us somewhere? That beautiful blue Christmas morning made us feel good in our hearts and we thought of Husband's sister and took it all as a sign that she was with us. 

A few months before we changed our lives and moved here Husband and I went to Canada to scatter the ashes of his mother, father, and sister in Georgian Bay.  We were en-route to pick up his Aunt and Uncle when Husband announced, "I need a coffee."  I pulled into the nearest mini-mall.  
Husband stood in line ordering. 

A Sign on A Sign

I gazed out the window not looking at anything in particular and noticed where we were: Heatherwood Square.  Sister-In-Law's name was Heather Wood.  A sign on a sign.   

The morning we were to scatter the ashes Husband first went for a drive alone.  Well, not alone, exactly.  He took the ashes in their urns for a final visit to the place that had meant so much to his family.  

They had grown up skiing in this area, and it was at the old 'chalet' that they had their very best times.  After a few moments of contemplation, he drove off and suddenly had the feeling he was not alone.  He looked out the driver's window.  A deer ran along side of the car.  In all his years at the chalet he had never seen a deer this close.  Another sign?  That's how he took it: they were sending him off as he was sending them off. These kinds of signs are comforting and stay with us.

We read many things as signs, and unfortunately some are discomforting. This first week of this New Year began grimly with the murders in the offices of Charles Hebdo in Paris.  The parade of woes around the world is depressing, and seemingly growing.  This burst of violence is a sad introduction into 2015.  We might take this as a sign of more bad things to come, of people becoming increasingly cruel to one another, of the dissolution of human relationships.  How do we keep from becoming overwhelmed by the sad, bad news?  Sometimes it's so powerful it feels like there isn't room in our heads or hearts for the good news.

Maybe by acknowledging small things every day and performing tiny kindnesses whenever we can, we can see the world in a better light, make some kind of difference, make our own signs for others to interpret. 

Husband and I choose to seek out signs that the world is a good place.  Little things.  The robin that perches on a branch and sings at us through the window, or the other one that hops in our back door for snacks. 

Please Miss, May
I Have More

A glorious morning.  A blue sky.  The deep chocolate brown of fresh tilled soil, the hike up Lollover Hill behind the house, long Skype calls with dear friends deeply missed, meeting and finding a commonality with new people, the sight of the first spring lambs (last week!), the ringing of the church bells next door, and the new lemon yellow daffodils blooming in January.  

It's That Time Again

A smile is a sign of happiness and sometimes just smiling at people and saying hello can spread good will.  Although some of our grumpier neighbours take this brazen act of congeniality as an assault, or just a sign of our suspected madness. Bitter Man and Scaffolding Man (see previous blog) do not take kindly to broad smiles and good mornings, but they're getting them anyway.  And in two short weeks my ability to spread kindness will be tested as I head back to Toronto to care for the most cantankerous man in the Western Hemisphere.  I hope for a sign that all will go well.    

A robin sings outside my window.    

A Good Sign