Lest we forget

Posted on November 11, 2023 by Julia at Home on 129 Acres

Lest we forget. Rudyard Kipling wrote these words in 1897. Today, 126 years later, I feel like we’ve forgotten.

I do not remember the First World War, when “lest we forget” first began to be associated with what was then known as Armistice Day. I do not remember the Second World War, when my grandfather left his family in Canada and fought in Italy and Holland. I don’t remember Vietnam or Korea.

My memories of war are the Persian Gulf, Bosnia, Afghanistan, Iraq, Sudan, Congo, Ukraine, Israel, Palestine. Conflicts that I’ve seen on TV, the news, movies, and social media, while I am safe here in Canada.

My experience of war is distant. But the lessons of “lest we forget” are close.

I saw my grandfather stand at Remembrance Day services every Nov. 11 with medals pinned to his chest. I wore a poppy, read In Flanders Fields, learned about the Holocaust and listened to The Last Post.

The lesson was always never again. These terrible things must never happen again. We must learn, so that we remember, so that we do not repeat.

I learned the lessons of lest we forget, and then I have watched conflict after conflict, genocide after genocide happen again and again. We have forgotten.

In some ways, it’s easy to forget. I feel safe. Israel, Palestine, the Ukraine, Sudan are all far away. My family doesn’t live there. What happens there doesn’t affect me. Why should I care?

I recently heard Malcolm Gladwell paraphrase author James Keenan to say, “Sin is the failure to bother to care.” If we stand by and do nothing when we could help, we are in the wrong.

The lesson of lest we forget is that I am part of the world, and it is my responsibility—everyone’s responsibility—to care for and protect each other.

Remembrance isn’t just about the past. It is about the present and the future. How we behave now, tomorrow and the day after that.

Lest we forget.

Odds & sods

Posted on October 30, 2023 by Julia at Home on 129 Acres

Last week, Ellie and I came home after 10 days in Ireland. We were there for Matt’s niece’s wedding.

When the invitation first came through I dismissed it immediately. Then I started to think. Why couldn’t we go to Ireland?

Matt’s parents and I talked, and we decided to go together. When Matt’s Mom was dying, she wanted to make sure that Ellie and I would still go on the trip. After she died, Matt’s Dad wasn’t going to go but then he decided to. So the three of us went off to Ireland.

Two summers ago (shortly after the wedding invitation first arrived), I adopted a philosophy of say yes. If something was happening or we were invited to do something, I was going to say yes and figure it out. This pushed me out of my comfort zone a bit but it opened us up to so many amazing experiences. Ireland was part of that.

Ellie, Matt’s Dad and I had 10 days to travel around, see new things, share some incredible experiences and be together in a different way. It was a special trip that I will not forget. I’m grateful to Matt’s Dad for making this trip happen, and I’m grateful that I said yes when the opportunity came along.

Here are some Ireland links for this month.

Our trip started with a hawk walk at the National Bird of Prey Centre. An amazing experience to learn about birds of prey, see them up close and have a hawk fly to our hands.

We spent the night in a castle!

Watching a little dog herd sheep with the Atlantic Ocean in front of us and Benbulbin mountain behind us was a unique morning.

Derry was a surprise. When I was planning our route it was simply a place to sleep and break up a long drive. We had an amazing afternoon walking the ancient wall all around the old city. An incredible journey into history.

The Titanic museum in Belfast was another incredible journey. Belfast’s evolution, the construction of the ship, the sinking, the wreckage discovery were all presented in a way that truly took us on a journey and created so many emotions.

Helpful tips for traveling with kids. Plus, our favourite book to prepare for the plane.

We’re settling back into our regular routine this week, though with a little celebration for Hallowe’en. More opportunities for fun, love and joy.

What do you do that takes you out of your comfort zone? Have you ever been to Ireland? Any tips for travelling with kids? Are you celebrating Hallowe’en?

Memorial garden

Posted on October 16, 2023 by Julia at Home on 129 Acres

Expanding the turnaround garden was one of my goals for 2023. When I started working on the turnaround 10 years ago, my plan was to have a whole circle filled with lush plantings.

We put up the flagpole and a brick pathway (that I envisioned someday overhanging with greenery and flowers). Then I filled half of the circle and realized that the turnaround was so large that it basically swallowed up every plant I put there. So one half became a flower garden (which has filled in decently, though some of the gaps are filled with weeds). The other half we mowed.

Then this spring’s patio project came along. The garden around the well was going to be torn out and reconfigured. So almost exactly a year ago, Ellie and I quickly moved a bunch of plants from the well garden to the unplanted half of the turnaround.

We still have a long way to go with this garden. The turnaround is still big and still eats plants. Our transplanting has been very hasty, so we dig holes wherever and don’t pull up the sod in any methodical or expansive way. But, most of the plants we moved survived, and we’ve since added a few more. It feels like a garden is starting to come together.

We’ve spread some mulch and made a little stepping stone path to the flagpole.

We also added two things this year which changed the significance of this garden.

The first is my Dad’s bike. This is an old bike with no gears, no handbrakes. I remember my Dad riding it (often with one of my siblings in the baby chair behind his seat) when we’d go for family bike rides. It’s rustic, like the farm, and makes a nice sculpture in the garden–and is a happy reminder of my Dad.

The second addition is a memorial tree for Matt’s Mom. Matt’s Dad’s friends wanted to plant a tree in her honour, and Matt’s Dad decided he wanted it to be at the farm. (His friends also planted a tree here for Matt.) So a few weeks ago they brought a strawberry hydrangea tree and added it to the turnaround.

It’s special to me to have these reminders of my Dad and Matt’s Mom, two people who are so precious to us.

The garden is a memorial in another way. Ralph is buried beside the flagpole. I like that they are all together here at the heart of the farm.

Do you have any memorials at your house? Do you have any in-progress gardens?

Another hole in our lives

Posted on August 7, 2023 by Julia at Home on 129 Acres

Two years ago, Matt’s brother organized a family getaway to Manitoulin Island at the end of May. We had a great time together, so this year he did it again. This time we went to Killarney in Northern Ontario. It was another wonderful experience. During that weekend, Matt’s Mom told us that when she returned home, she had an appointment for a CT scan to try to find the source of some back pain she’d been having for a while.

That scan led to scary doctor appointments, treatments, a couple of stays in the hospital, and, then last month, Matt’s Mom died.

Another hole in our lives.

I often say that Matt’s parents and I work hard at our relationship, but that it’s not hard. We prioritize each other and make sure we connect, through big things like weekends away and little things like emails about how our day went. We do it for Ellie and for Matt, and also for each other. We love and appreciate each other.

Every Monday, Ellie and I go to Matt’s parents’ house for lunch. It was a rare week when Matt’s Mom wouldn’t have a new shirt or hat or outfit for Ellie. She would comb through the children’s section at the library so that she had a stack of books to read with Ellie. She made sure she had food Ellie would like, and we always came home with enough Bear Paws to fill Ellie’s lunch pail for the whole week. And she and I would chat about everything.

Matt’s parents both support us in so many ways. We are different people, but we respect and accept each other. When Matt and I bought our first house, Matt’s Mom showed up on the first day and cleaned our bathrooms. When we bought the farm, she did the same here. I will always remember how when I finished Ellie’s treehouse, Matt’s Mom was so proud to share my blog post on her Facebook page.

When she was in the hospital, we talked about some things that are happening in the fall. She wanted to make sure we would still do what we planned. Right up to her last moment, she was assuring me that I would continue to do a good job with my work, the farm and Ellie.

That unconditional love is for me the epitome of family.

When we were in Killarney in May, Matt’s Mom was in a lot of pain. Yet she walked all over that little town, she went to every breakfast and dinner, she watched her grandchildren play, and she even went out in a canoe with Matt’s Dad. She worked hard, and it was worth it. She soaked up every moment with her family. And we soaked up every moment with her.

Thankful

Posted on October 10, 2022 by Julia at Home on 129 Acres

“Gratitude turns what we have into enough”
Aesop

We celebrated Thanksgiving this weekend. When I think of what I’m thankful for, my answer is everything.

I can’t write a list like I did in the past because the list wouldn’t stop. I can’t single out one thing because they’re all magical.

We live each day with so much love and joy. And I try to make it enough.

I’ve been thinking of this Thanksgiving post all week. Trying to figure out what to write. When I found this quote it summed up what I felt. It was enough.

But tonight. Late at night. As I tap away on my phone (not my preferred way to write), my thoughts are different.

I am still filled with love and joy. Always.

But when I think about what comes after Thanksgiving three years ago this becomes a very hard time of year. I slide back easily and remember what each day was and what we were marching toward.

One giant, terrible hole. That is still with us. All the time. I am not grateful for the hole.

What I have of Matt is not enough.

So I live with the hole. I live with the love. I live with the joy. I am thankful. And I work to make it enough.

Harry’s tree

Posted on August 15, 2022 by Julia at Home on 129 Acres

Two years ago, I met a woman whose grandparents had owned the farm in the early 1900s. Her name is Lorraine. Since then, Lorraine and I have stayed in touch, and she has visited the farm several times. Last fall, Lorraine arranged to have a tree planted in memory of man who worked on the farm with her father. I wrote an article about this for our community newsletter, and I’m sharing it here today.

In 1936, Harry Halworth came to Puslinch. He was 16 years old. At home in England, there were no jobs, so he signed up with a government program that brought young people to Canada to work on farms.

Harry’s experience in Puslinch forged a deep connection to Canada. This connection was commemorated in the fall with a special tree planting. Lorraine Stewart, the daughter of one of the farmers Harry worked for, arranged for a maple tree to be planted on her parents’ former farm.

“That tree is really like a memorial to Harry’s love for this country,” Lorraine explains.

A case of appendicitis brought Harry to the Stewart farm. The farmer Harry was working for could not pay Harry’s medical bills, and Harry was abandoned in the Galt hospital. Lorraine’s father, Allan Stewart, stepped in and Harry then came to work for the family.

Harry worked for the Stewarts and other farms in the community for three years. Then he decided to go home and bring his fiancée, Vina, to Canada.

Unfortunately, the year was 1939. When war broke out, Harry enlisted in the British Navy. He spent the next five years in submarines. When the war concluded, Harry stayed in England and went to work in the coal mines of Mexborough. He and Vina raised five children.

Harry never forgot his time in Canada, though, and in 1962 Allan received a telephone call. The Stewarts had left the farm in 1942 when Allan took a job in Hamilton. But a cousin who lived in Puslinch had seen a notice in the Galt paper. Harry Halworth was inquiring about Allan Stewart and some other people.

“My Dad wrote to him, and Harry ended up coming here,” says Lorraine. Harry and Vina would return to Canada many times for holidays, continuing to visit with Lorraine and her friend Greta after Allan’s death. Harry’s last trip was in 2010 when he was 90. He rode the train to Vancouver, enjoying the view of the Rockies from the glass dome railcar.

Shortly after Harry returned to England, his daughter phoned Lorraine to tell her Harry’s health was failing.

“That’s when I told him I was going to plant a maple tree in the northwest corner of the property,” says Lorraine. “He loved this country. I think he felt so badly that he had missed out in not getting here.”

The tree honours Harry, his work in Puslinch, and his love of Canada. It will be a beautiful legacy for generations to come.

Lorraine (right) and her friend Greta with Harry’s tree

Lorraine came to see Harry’s tree a few weeks ago. The tree is struggling due to the lack of rain, but we’re working to save it. I’m proud to commemorate Harry and also Lorraine with this tree. Living on this farm which has such a history and getting to know some of that history is very special.

Remembering Thanksgiving

Posted on October 11, 2021 by Julia at Home on 129 Acres

Thanksgiving is Matt’s favourite holiday.

Last year, Thanksgiving knocked me sidewise.

I couldn’t remember Matt’s last Thanksgiving. It bugged me so much that I had this big hole of lost time with Matt. That I couldn’t remember him enjoying his favourite holiday. From what I’ve been able to piece together from our families, he was feeling pretty rough and may not have enjoyed it very much.

But what happened after Thanksgiving was too clear.

The day after Thanksgiving, we were at the hospital for an appointment with our oncologist. I hung back after the appointment and he told me that Matt would live for a few more weeks. I said, “Christmas?” He said, “No.”

I remember how it felt to come home to Ellie and hold her as I laid on the floor and sobbed. I remember not telling Matt what the oncologist had said.

From Thanksgiving to November 9 last year, I was living a flashback. I remember how rough Matt felt and I remember how hard we were holding on.

I’m worried that the flashbacks will happen again this year. I’m worried that Thanksgiving will lead to another spiral.

But I’m also choosing to remember before.

Thanksgiving is Matt’s favourite holiday.

There are lots of Thanksgivings before last year and the last one.

He loves the turkey–the bigger the better. He’s particular about his potatoes–and must mash them personally. He and his brothers have their own language when they are together (obscure movie quotes that are meaningless to everyone else).

Ellie and I have been working on finding the joy and the love and the gratitude–as we always do.

We’ve been writing what we’re thankful for on paper leaves and sticking them on our thankful tree. Ellie made a picture at preschool of her and Daddy “when they were turkeys.” I found a fortune laying on the ground behind our car that says, “Someone is looking out for you.”

It is so, so hard that Matt is not here in the way I wish he was. But I am thankful for every way he is with us.

Happy Thanksgiving. Whatever your situation, I hope that you can find happiness today.

Building for a life I don’t have

Posted on July 19, 2021 by Julia at Home on 129 Acres

Sometimes I think I’m not doing grief right.

I feel like someone might think, “Grief? Why are you talking about grief? It’s been more than a year. Move on.” Or somebody else might think, “Your husband died. How are you able to function?”

I work very hard every day to be happy. I work at it. I choose it.

I work very hard to give Ellie as much joy as possible and as much connection to her Daddy as possible.

This farm helps.

Matt and I love this farm. Moving here transformed us in a wonderful way. It is incredibly special, and we had a vision for what this farm would be. I told Matt once shortly after we moved here (long before he was diagnosed), “I wouldn’t want to do this on my own.” Well, I’m doing it on my own. I’m working hard to make our vision come true.

So I go ahead and build a garage. The garage that we talked about and planned for and started saving for together. I’m proud that I did this on my own and that our plans for the garage have turned out so well.

But it also hurts.

Matt always wanted to park his car in a garage, and he never got to do that. I built a big two car garage, even though we only have one car. I built a big mudroom with open storage, so that he doesn’t have to open a closet to hang up his coat. The mudroom will have hooks for lots of kids to hang up backpacks and coats. Kids that we don’t get to have. It has a section for Baxter’s leashes and towels, which he doesn’t get to use. My Dad should have been our general contractor, but he doesn’t get to build anymore.

The losses pile up.

I keep busy. I feel most myself when I’m doing things. I also fear that if I stop, I’ll start thinking too much.

So I build a treehouse playground for our girl. I can’t give her her Daddy, but I can give her a fun playground. A place where we find joy.

Grief doesn’t come with rules. I can’t let go of Matt, my Dad, Baxter. I feel them here with me, supporting me through the garage and watching Ellie in her treehouse. I talk to them and keep them part of our life and the farm. I also can’t be crushed by this, not caring for our house, our farm, our girl.

I’m sad. I’m happy. I’m on my own. I’m not alone.

Matt and I had a vision for this farm. I want to make that vision come true for us both. I want it for myself, but I also want it for him. I am committed to him. He doesn’t get to do this. I can do it for both of us.

Odds & sods

Posted on February 22, 2021 by Julia at Home on 129 Acres

This has been a month of highs and lows.

Matt’s uncle, a much-loved figure in our lives, died. Uncle Bill made us the Coonley playhouse-inspired stained glass window that hangs in our dining room. Bill loved coming to the farm, and I love the big hugs that he gave me every time I saw him.

Coonley playhouse Frank Lloyd Wright inspired stained glass panel

We’ve had two birthdays so far this month, and the biggest one (for us) comes tomorrow when Ellie turns 3.

Our girl is so proud of how she’s growing (“I’m going to reach the books on the top of the shelf!”) and learning (“I’m going to write!”).

Ellie is a sensitive, thoughtful, enthusiastic little girl. Though we have our terrible-twos/threenager moments, most of our days are filled with fun, and I’m looking forward to some fun (albeit small) celebrations this week.

Here is an Ellie-inspired round-up for this month:

A mile with May

Cinderella just wants to ~~go to the~~ play ball

Christopher Robin grows up

A cute monster movie… that of course made me think of Ellie and Matt

Your real life is with your family

An epic playground in an epic park

How has February been for you? What kid-friendly things are you enjoying these days?

One year

Posted on November 9, 2020 by Julia at Home on 129 Acres

It’s been a year.

For awhile, that was all I was going to write here. I didn’t know what to say. I’m still not sure what to say. I have many stories. Many thoughts. All of them feel small. Inadequate. How do you write about a person? All of them. How they feel, how they sound, what they do, how they act.

I struggle that what I share of Matt with Ellie will be small. She will not know him for who he is–for all he is. But I need her to know him, even if it’s just a small part. So I keep telling stories.

When we moved to the farm, herons became my talisman. It was always special when I spotted one at the pond or flying overhead. That’s one of the reasons I chose a picture of a heron to hang over my nightstand in our bedroom.

Herons took on even greater significance during Matt’s illness.

I saw herons more than ever.

Wading at the pond, flying over the fields, in the east field (where I had never seen one before), out hiking with my friends. Twice, we even saw a heron flying over the highway as we were traveling to the hospital. Surrounded by concrete, asphalt and traffic, no water in sight, we saw herons.

These sightings gave me a lot of comfort.

On Saturday afternoon, as Ellie played joyously in the leaves outside, I saw a heron flying overhead. It glided down and landed in the pond. And I knew Matt was with us.