By the Sea

We're having a heat wave, which for Québec City, located on the St. Lawrence River, means lots of crushing humidity; 61% at this moment, and it's been higher. So I'm consuming lots of iced drinks, keeping the fans going--no air-conditioning, high heat doesn't last long enough--and as the sun comes around to peer through my NorthWest facing windows and balcony door, I close the blinds.

When I'm tempted to complain of the heat, I think of  winter snowbanks that reach my shoulder, and winds straight from the arctic. Doesn't make me feel cooler, but it puts things in perspective.

In addition to cool drinks, and appreciation of the moment,  I take virtual seaside vacations, via cards I make. Nothing relaxes me like the sound of waves rolling onto a beach, the sound of seagulls, and the remembered feeling of some days spent long ago on a beach in Corpus Christi, Texas, where I waded into the Gulf waters, forgetting sunscreen.

I can still feel fish brushing my legs, and see clearly the Ray flying past in the water ahead of me. I laugh again, thinking of waves crashing over me as I tried in vain to bodysurf. I also have a sharp memory of the pain of a never-again sunburn.

Every summer, I get out my favourite water-themed Stampin' Up stamp sets: Summer by the Sea, and Seaside Sketches, from which the images in today's cards are taken. I hope they help you relax a little, and think kindly of the fleeting summer days.

Loss of Innocents

I have heard about the tragedy in Connecticut yesterday, watched the reports this morning, and find it difficult to express my feelings.  Tragedies like this leave us numb.  In thinking of the parents who've lost little ones, I remember that my grandmother and grandfather never got over the loss of my mother, who died of cancer at the age of 35. I still feel her loss, too.

I also remember friends whose first child was a son the same age as my younger son. They lived in a high rise near Ottawa, Ontario, on the 11th floor, and lost their son, barely a year old, when a badly installed floor-to-ceiling screen detached while he was looking down at the traffic. I still feel horror and sorrow at the thought of his mom racing down to his broken little body. The couple visited us when Marc was 15, and by the way they talked to him, questioned him about his life, I could tell they were thinking, "Our son would be doing similar things..."

In an interview, the priest of the Catholic Church in New Town said that some parents had told him they were comforted just by his being with them. From my personal experience, I know that the mere presence of loving friends and family can be more comforting than words.

In such times, it also comforts me to know that God always brings good out of evil, and never allows us to endure more than we can bear, even though at the time it might not seem like it. One good thing I can think of now is that thousands, probably millions, of people all over the world are praying for the families, which will benefit not only the families, but those who pray as well.

This tragedy, coming at Christmas time, also makes me think of the Holy Innocents, who died in place of Christ, when Herod sent soldiers to seek and kill him. I heard several people on TV express regret at the possibilities never to be fulfilled by those 20 little ones. This is a thought I always have when thinking of the victims of abortion, especially survivors of abortion, often then left alone until they die, without sustenance or comfort.

I also thought this morning of my high school-aged granddaughters, and of my son  who teaches in a Montréal CEGEP--roughly equivalent to a US Junior College. We've had tragic shootings in schools in Québec, and this morning, I realized that he, too, is vulnerable.

My prayers and thoughts are with all those who will find joy difficult this Christmas season.