“Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference.”
“Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference.”
Here’s another in our “year of firsts” this weekend: our first Thanksgiving without Tory. It also usually lines up with our wedding anniversary – we got married on Thanksgiving weekend 15 years ago – but this year our anniversary falls almost a week after.
And if you wondered why the heck Kate and I would celebrate Thanksgiving after the year we’ve had, you wouldn’t be crazy – what is there to be thankful for when you lose your mom and wife?
Well, it turns out, a lot.
There’s a reason I think why fall is many people’s favourite season. In some ways it’s a time of nostalgia after the summer and a necessary break before the holidays and then the darkness of winter. For me it’s almost the anti-New Year’s – a time when you don’t look forward at the year ahead; instead you pause and reflect on the times behind you.
If I were to count my blessings this year I’d trail off to sleep before I finished. I’d need many more fingers and toes. I’d need an abacus (I’d also need instructions on how to use an abacus). The point is there are too many to count.
So let me instead focus on the things that have had the biggest impact this year, and why I’m most thankful:
Kate and I got an early start at Thanksgiving with the Butlers on Wednesday, and will get together with my family (and the dogs, cats, chicken, ducks, geese…) on Sunday. However you celebrate it (and whenever you do it – whether it be this weekend or in the US in November), please promise me you’ll stop, be thankful for everything T gave you, Kate and me, and then be thankful for whatever life has given you this year. You may need to dig a little deeper to find it, but trust me, it’s there and it’s beautiful.
Happy Thanksgiving.
J.
P.S. I’m also thankful for the hundreds of people who have donated to The Tory Day Fund or bought tickets to our fundraising event, The Night of Nonsense. The campaign ends that night and it’s just a week away. If you can, please consider donating or buying your ticket today.
Happy 150th, Canada.
Count me as hugely patriotic but in an understated – Canadian, I guess – way. Flag on backpack in Europe? Check. Buy Canadian? Whenever I can, but getting tougher. Polite? Mostly, thank you. Defender of Nickelback? Sorry, too much.
When people try to define “Canadian” it usually includes universal health care, alongside hockey, Tim Horton’s and other clichés. Why does universal health care belong on that list though? It doesn’t make us unique – it makes us the same as every modern nation but one.
And of course we Canadians love to complain about our health care system and we should – it’s far from perfect. But here’s one thing Tory’s journey through the Canadian health care system gave us: comfort. Not total comfort – that’s impossible when battling cancer – but comfort knowing we were getting world-class care and not having to worry about being able to afford it.
There are only two occasions I needed to use a credit card in the entire process: to pay for parking at the hospital, and to cover the portion of Tory’s drugs that weren’t covered by our provincial or private plans.
That’s comfort.
This Canada Day also has me thinking about something else, and I suppose this year more than any other: Terry Fox.
I like to say I live my life with no regrets – good or bad, the choices I’ve made make me the person I am. But I’ll tell you a secret: I have one regret. And that’s when Terry Fox came through my hometown of Woodstock on July 16, 1980, I didn’t go see him. I was 10 and lazy I guess, and when family and friends walked up to Dundas Street to catch a glimpse of the Marathon of Hope, I stayed home.
I missed a chance to see perhaps the greatest Canadian ever and someone who’d become a personal hero on his trip across Canada to raise awareness and money for cancer research.
I remember like it was yesterday hearing about Terry’s death a few months later after his cancer returned, and I probably cried a bit harder because of my regret.
Kate and I have been talking about taking a road trip this summer. Not sure when or even if we’ll do it, but a visit to Thunder Bay to see the Terry Fox Memorial seems like a good destination.
Happy Canada Day. And here’s to living life with no more regrets…
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What a day yesterday! Launching The Tory Day Fund was crazy bittersweet … Hearing from great friends, and seeing the many tickets purchased and donations were a definite highlight. Thanks to all of you.
OK, now the tough news: the event is going to sell out, and there are many from Eastdale and IBM (and even a few family members!) who have not yet bought their tickets. Do it today, OK?
And while I’m humbled (truly) by the generosity of those who donated to the fund, we have a long way to go to meet our goal. The campaign continues through October and let’s keep up the momentum — every dollar donated gets us closer to our goal to make a really meaningful improvement in the comfort of cancer patients.
Onward.