Some days (and weeks and sometimes months) when the intensity of being human is exhausting, I just want some time to sit and have a good stare.  So it is tonight, with the music of Jack Layton’s funeral still humming softly in my mind, and the inspiration to be kind, optimistic and loving warming my soul.  I’m also “jacked up” (as my son would say) about the Bomber win last night, and anxious to hear how the Bisons did against Regina tonight. Brett and the team should be on the bus traveling back to Manitoba right now, and I have that soft Mother’s worry about me as tidy up and plan tomorrow’s  welcome home meal for my favourite football player.

 

During the week, I met up with a couple of pals from college, the Cre Com class of 76, to plan a collage reunion over drinks and snacks on a local patio.  It’s three point five decades since we were college “kids”.  Of course, we talked about kids…ours and the world’s…marveling at their brilliance, and their unique world.  At home, by son asked me about the evening.  We talked about our children I said…

 

Who won?  he dead panned.

Although I’m really, really hoping Bisons were victorious over the Rams, I know that if our sons come home safe and sound…rumbled and bleary eyed from their journey…we all have.

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