Gratitude – Cynthia Reyes

A Good Home, Book Interviews, Book lovers, Book Reviews, Christmas Decorations, Good wishes, Gratitude, Kindness, Laughter, Life Challenges

Incredible You

December 16, 2014 Cynthia Reyes

Readers of this blog and A Good Home have encouraged my family and me through some crazy times this year.

You’ve consoled and encouraged me in the domestic arts, including the two times I tried making outdoor Christmas arrangements! Several readers offered compliments, tips, commiseration, inspiration.

And Arna sent me this photo.

“I told you I have a planter like yours!” she said.

Yes, Arna, but yours is far more assured.

From last fall to this spring, I had to abandon virtually all my book-related activities and take to my bed.

Some of you decided to help. You bought my book, and wrote wonderful reviews.

Phil reviewed A Good Home for an American book website last year, then created computer-assisted images promoting the book.

John G. took my book with him on his annual canoe trip, then wrote a review too.

In Avery, Texas, 90 year old Lou Mathis and his wife Aggie were themselves struggling this September. Their farm business was suffering because of its name, “Isis”. (Isis was the ancient Egyptian goddess, but in today’s climate, not a popular name.)

Lou asked on their blog: “WHAT DO YOU THINK? For some reason I refuse to give up the… ISIS FARMS. But would painting the sign OVER IN GREEN……”

I asked you to reply to Lou and Aggie and many of you did. Wonderful, caring replies that helped them make their decision. It’s now called “Aggie’s Farm”.

Photo by Aggie's Farm — Photos by Aggie’s Farm

In October, Canada’s national radio network, CBC, aired my interview with celebrated host Shelagh Rogers.

I’d been nervous about it. But people like John V. wrote to my blog afterwards:

“I heard you speak on the radio about healing and it gave me perspective and hope for my own circumstances. Sincere thanks for sharing.”

Such validation for a book completed in dire times!

On crazily painful days, I often forced myself to write poems, making fun of myself and my home life. Some (like Stiletto Heels) became blog posts, which made you laugh, uplifting me in return.

Andra wrote: “I absolutely howled with laughter reading this. Thanks, Cynthia! Have had similar thoughts watching the young ladies strutting about in high heels and skimpy dresses in inclement weather. And like you, I recall being just as foolish back in the day. Great poem.”

Then, without warning this fall, life changed perilously. My husband nearly died.

Titled No Words, my poem expressed the raw agony our family experienced.

In reply, you warmly supported us with prayers, consolation and good wishes.

Incredible kindness, especially because I’ve never met most of you in person.

“Thank you” hardly seems enough. But thank you, anyway.

For your kindness.

And for being part of my world.

My best,

Cynthia.

A Good Home, Canadian life, Canadiana, Gratitude, Heritage Homes, Home, Home Decor, Homes, Inspiration, Joy, Joyful Moments, Life in canada, Living sustainably, Love, Wood, Wool Blankets

EVERYDAY GLORY – Part 2

November 17, 2014November 20, 2014 Cynthia Reyes

*PHOTOS BY HAMLIN GRANGE*

Before the car accident, I was busy leading the big projects, travelling here and there. Running around trying to change the world can make a person miss the beauty of “ordinary” things.

Injuries and pain are indescribably worse. You finally have time to see, but barely have the energy to look.

But – oh – it’s worth the effort!

To see one’s surroundings with new and grateful eyes.

To take joy in the small moments.

To be open to small patches of everyday glory.

"Snow Cones" on Spruce Branch - Photo by Hamlin Grange — “Snow Cones” on Spruce Branch

Snow on evergreens. The first snow makes the garden beautiful, day and night.

The late sun. Late afternoon sunlight shining on wood floors is magical. And when the late sun hits the wavy glass sidelights in the front door of our old farmhouse, it’s wondrous.

My husband’s truant socks. He has tons of single socks and we spend time searching for their matches.I used to get irritated by this. Or by newspapers strewn across the breakfast table. (Or his overlooking my small attempts to ‘cheer up’ our house.)

Now, I call them “signs of life”. And I give thanks for having someone kind, funny and loving to share my everyday life with. (And I try to assemble the newspapers without muttering.)

Freshly washed sheets. There’s luxury in the smell and feel of freshly washed cotton sheets although they’ve been used and washed many times.

The old wool blanket. “Canadiana”, for sure, it would be worth something, unstained. Do I care about the stain? No. I love this blanket for its brilliant stripes – and for having survived decades of use.

Blooming Amaryllis. Bought for 6 bucks, it re-blooms (big red blooms) on long stalks each winter. ‘Nuff said.

Our family’s big mixing bowl. Many apple pies have been mixed up in that beautiful old bowl.

My daughter’s dogs. Sometimes, just the sight of them gladdens my heart. One brownish-black, one white, they’re both tiny dogs with personalities of their own. As I write, they’re stretched out beside me, fast asleep.

Julius and Dawson Fast Asleep — The Pooches

Slowing down by choice is great. Being forced to do so is awful.

But in the spirit of lighting a candle and finding my way out of darkness, I’ve been focusing on positives.

And keeping both eyes open for the everyday kind of glory.

This post is dedicated to the caring staff at the pain management centre of Toronto Rehabilitation Hospital. One of the techniques they teach their patients is mindfulness.

A Good Home, Family, Family birthdays, Family Moments, Flowers, Gratitude, Relationships, Sisters

FLOWERS FOR MY SISTER

September 18, 2014September 18, 2014 Cynthia Reyes

Today is my younger sister’s birthday, and these flowers are for her.

I was the older sister, and for most of our lives, the more accomplished. She looked up to me, as I looked up to our older sisters.

But for some time now, I’ve been the one who’s looked up to her.

My little sister has quietly become one of my heroes.

She’s overcome many painful challenges.

Her marriage dissolved.

She went back to school while the children were still young. Went back to earn new qualifications that would pay the bills.

She raised her three sons, mostly on her own. Three beautiful young men.

Today she’s also a loving grandmother of two.

My sister’s faith and optimism are a joy to behold.

I’ve leaned on that strong faith in recent years. Hers and my other siblings’.

Through frequent phone calls from the U. S., where she lives, my younger sister has helped keep me afloat during tough times.

She talked to me at times when I couldn’t even hold a conversation.

Over and over, she called. Encouraging. Assuring me that there would be brighter tomorrows.

But it’s what she’s done for others that’s moved me most profoundly over these several years.

She established scholarships — in our parents’ names — for children from poor families in the Jamaican countryside where we once lived. She started with two – twin girls – providing money for their high school fees and other expenses.

Then she asked the rest of us to contribute if and when we could.

Today, those scholarships have helped 8 young people. All of them are bright children from poor families – much poorer than we were.

My sister delights in their progress.

And she never lets the rest of us forget that through these scholarships, we are changing lives.

Helping others to get an opportunity that changed our own lives.

An education.

Happy birthday, Jackie.

And thank you.

God bless.

A Good Home, Faith, Family, Family Moments, Farm house, Flowering shrubs, Flowers, Gardening, Gardens, Gratitude, Home, Homes, Inspiration

Flowers, Memories, Diaries

July 9, 2014July 9, 2014 Cynthia Reyes

Memory is the diary we all carry about with us, wrote Oscar Wilde.

But for me, diary is memory. Years of memories.

Family, home, garden, daily life.

Diaries played a small role in my overall life, but became a huge part of my post-accident experience. With little sense of time, and often no memory of events just minutes after they happened, I started writing in my journal again.

Little things. Big things. Write it down quickly.

A doctor played a key role. She told me to record events as they happened, figuring I could share these entries with the medical professionals I visited. My memory and speech problems were so bad, she noted, that “No other specialist will take two hours to try to figure out what you are saying. Write.”

Of course, that’s not word-for-word. But I scribbled down her order.

I returned to keeping journals. Some of the entries were so painful, I vowed to never re-read them.

The best? Entries about time with family.

Next best: time in the garden.

I used to keep a journal to track my gardens’ progress. The major triumphs and minor tragedies, the plans carried out and those forgotten.

Now, no longer able to garden, I was reduced to observing. But observing led to writing and writing led to “remembering”.

The first spring bulbs to bloom.

The first night-bloomer of the season.

The first time the fern-leaf peonies – presents from friends Les and Sandra – bloomed.

The hollyhock that bloomed in two colours.

The mysterious flower that showed up one summer.

Red currants, seeds planted by birds or breeze.

When your brain doesn’t work efficiently, you misplace things. When you’re in too much pain to move, you can’t go looking for things somewhere else. So I learned to keep the garden journal on the verandah, and other journals in every room of the house.

An onlooker, seeing me writing on that lovely verandah, might have thought: “What a charmed life.”