Posted on October 3, 2016 under Monday Morning Musings with 4 comments

Muriel’s tree

“ I think that I shall never see,

A poem lovely as a tree.”

Trees by Joyce Kilmer

Last Friday, one of the oldest homes on our street was torn down, taking with it a house full of memories. A few days earlier, a crew of expert arborists came in and removed several large trees to make way for the demolition team. It is inherently sad to see something that has taken Mother Nature decades to grow, come tumbling down in a matter of minutes.

One tree was left untouched but it turns out that this was a temporary reprieve.  For some reason , a stately fir tree in excess of 30 feet in height, wasn’t cut down.

I happened to be talking to one of the neighbors and discovered that this particular tree was near and dear to the home’s previous owner. Apparently it had been planted as a seedling the length of your pinkie finger. And over the decades, it grew and grew to become one of the most beautiful  ( and straight ) trees you will ever see. I also learned that the destruction of this tree was causing significant angst to the person who nurtured it from birth.

On the day of the demolition, I was on the way out the door for a dental appointment. Betty casually suggested that I try and save the tree from the wrecking ball. Now , I appreciate nature as much as the next guy but I could hardly be accused of being a raging environmentalist. Over the years, I have never chained myself to a tree or taken part in protests over clear cutting. Maybe I should have.

When I returned from the dentist an hour later, the house was three quarters razed and the fir tree was still standing. The equipment operator was taking a break and I approached him to see if there was any way of transplanting a tree of that size. He assured me that it could be done. I then asked him ( rather boldly when you come to think of it! ) if he would mind terribly not knocking down the tree.

I spent the rest of the day tracking down the new owner of the property  to get permission to keep the tree intact for a while and I spoke to several officials from the Town to see if we could hatch a plan to relocate, what might make an excellent permanent Christmas tree, to a suitable place in town.

Please stay tuned as we try to save Muriel’s tree!

“ Poems are made by fools like me,

But only God can make a tree.”

Have a great week.

P.S. In the past 3 days I have had two significant senior’s moments…. one good and the other,  downright embarrassing. Got my first Old Age Security cheque on Thursday. No, that’s not the embarrassment! Yesterday morning I was scheduled to catch an early morning bus to the airport to pick up my car. Booked my “ senior’s” ticket a week ago. Didn’t check the ticket carefully.  Casually meandered up to the bus depot to kill a bit of time only to discover that the bus had left three minutes earlier. To add to my woes, I had an appointment booked in Bedford at 11:00. I seriously thought of hitchhiking for old times sake. Called my brother Mike to see if he would come and get me and chase the bus down in New Glasgow… the first stop. ( Pause for fanfare ). Guess where he was heading in 10 minutes time? To Halifax! I arrived at the airport before the bus. For my penance, I will go to the nearest blackboard and write 65 times, “ I will check my reservations carefully before going on a trip.”

Posted on September 29, 2016 under Faces in the Crowd with one comment

Honorable Lena M. Diab

 

“There’s never enough time. I wish that time would slow down so that I could do more. There’s still more that I can do.”

Meet Lena Metlege Diab.

The oldest of six children, Lena was born in Halifax, the daughter of immigrants from Lebanon who came to Canada in search of better opportunities. In 1968, she and one of her sisters were sent back to Lebanon to live with their grandparents and begin their elementary schooling.

The Lebanese Civil War began in 1975, and even though she and the family were safe in the north, fear and worry permeated the entire country. As things worsened in 1976, Lena’s father decided that it was time to get everyone out of Lebanon. They packed up only the essentials and escaped the country by boat, crossing the Mediterranean Sea. The journey was rough and sea sickness was rampant.

Lena resumed her schooling in Halifax, attending St. Agnes School. She knew very little English at first. This was a time when not everybody was comfortable with people from other countries who looked different and spoke an unfamiliar language. Junior High was a tough time for Lena, but many of the barbs she received didn’t sting too much because she didn’t know what they were saying!

Getting a good education was a priority for Lena`s family and she threw herself into her schooling with a vigor and passion that she exudes to this very day. She became an honours student and mastered English and French. She took part in many extracurricular activities and was a member of St. Patrick’s High School Student Council and the Yearbook Committee.

Even from an early age, Lena wanted to become a lawyer so that she could help people. She received her undergraduate degree in only 2 years and went on to get a Master’s Degree in Public Administration. During this time she got married and started a family.  Law school at Dalhousie University soon followed. One of her children was born 14 days before she started her law degree! By the time she graduated and had completed her articling she had three young children (all under 4 years), and her fourth child arrived in 2000.

Things weren’t easy, but her hard work and determination and the support of family and colleagues enabled her to practice law. She chose a firm that was close to home. “I needed to be close to my children. No matter how important law was, my family always came first.”

In 2006, the family went to Lebanon to visit her husband’s family and to commemorate the life of her recently deceased father in law. A few days after arriving, bombs suddenly and unexpectedly started to fall in South Lebanon.   This marked the start of the 34 day war known as the “July War.” Lebanon is a small country and every citizen felt the impact. The family was notified by the Canadian Embassy to evacuate immediately. Once again, they were forced to travel by boat as airports are typically one of the first things to be bombed during war. It was utter chaos at the seaport. Thousands of people stood in blistering heat with no food, water or toilet facilities. And to make matters worse, they didn’t know where they were going. They spent 25 hours on a boat staffed with a Turkish crew whose language they didn’t understand. They spent some time in a large stadium and within 24 hours, were on a plane back to Montreal. The family was traumatized and it took years before everyone got over this terrifying experience.

When Lena wasn’t practicing law and attending to a busy family, she volunteered in her community for every imaginable organization. In 2013, she decided to run for public office. “I had a deep desire to help people and I wanted Nova Scotia to do better socially and economically.” She won her seat in Halifax/Armdale and was appointed to the provincial cabinet in October of 2013. She holds the distinction of being the first female Attorney General for the province of Nova Scotia. She held the role of both the Justice Minister and the Minister of Immigration. Immigration became her exclusive portfolio in July 2015.

Last fall the body of a lifeless 3 year old Syrian boy lying on a beach evoked a response around the world. For many Canadians, this was a call to action. For Lena Diab, the memories of her own family’s brush with war came flooding back. She has an intimate understanding of the refugee crisis and is in a unique position, with her Justice and Immigration roles, to help people.  She is very effective in ensuring that new Nova Scotians, who are trying to make their way in an unfamiliar country, have the resources they need to succeed.

She is very well respected by her peers. “As someone whose family immigrated to Nova Scotia,  Minister Diab has seen first-hand much of what our most recent citizens have experienced, and you can tell how deeply she cares by the passion she brings to her role as Immigration Minister,” says a fellow cabinet minister.

Lena’s days are incredibly busy but there is always time to curl up with her two grandchildren … one of the best known stress reducers!

She says that her work in government is very rewarding, helping long-time residents and newcomers alike to fulfill their dreams and navigate the system. “I love helping people and I have worked very hard for the benefit of my family, my community and my province.”

She admits to having no regrets … other than the fact that there are only 24 hours in a day!

 

Posted on September 26, 2016 under Monday Morning Musings with 9 comments

The Highland Quilt Guild Show at St. James. Brilliant!

 

          

Vaccinations complete . √

Visa and passport approved. √

Flights booked. √

Unless I win the lottery and have to go to Moncton on October 25^th. to pick up my cheque (!) , I plan to be on a plane to India. As some of you know, I am going to volunteer with a non profit group in Southern India but I hope to see many other places in this vast country before I return at the end of April. Yup. That’s 6 months. I expect that there will be plenty of fodder for book number 4.

I already have enough material to write the first chapter.  It will be titled: ” It’s Not About The Destination, It’s About Getting The Visa. “ While the book will be somewhat a travelogue, it will be laced with humour… in a respectful way. I cannot imagine being an immigrant or more importantly a refugee. It’s hard enough to get a valid government document sitting in the comfort of one’s own home, but trying to do this under duress must be enormously stressful.  I was astonished and perplexed at how complicated it can be to get a piece of paper.

Once I arrive in India, my “ Faces in the Crowd “ piece on Thursdays will have unfamiliar faces but I hope you will continue to read about the lives of other people who have not necessarily grown up with many of the things we take for granted. And Monday Morning Musings should give you an overview of what I am experiencing.

I have received more Town Council candidate cards in recent days than I received Christmas cards last December. Yes, the municipal election campaign is in full throttle with only a handful of weeks to go before the voters have their say.

Having run for office ( successfully three times and unsuccessfully once ), I know a bit about the rigours of campaigning. I have also run several marathons, including Boston twice. While I am not an expert on either endeavour, I certainly know what the experience feels like and I`m here to tell you that there are eerie similarities. In both cases, the planning starts weeks, if not months in advance. You first have to have the notion that you want to tackle it. You chat with others who have done it before, get some coaching,  prepare a game plan and then hit the road. And it is a long road filled with pain, doubt, frustration and sometimes the fear of failure. But it is also filled with enormous satisfaction as you meet many wonderful people along the journey who inspire you and prop you up when you need it most.

There is usually a crucial moment when you wonder, “ what in the hell have I gotten myself into,” but this is fleeting.

The hardest part is the last few weeks. You are physically and mentally tired and it is very hard to get up in the morning knowing that you have another day of hard work in front of you. This is also when a small knot in your stomach grows daily as you see the finish line and wonder about the outcome. Sleep becomes more difficult and your agitation level increases as every whisper you hear becomes a roar.

The day of the race comes and all of your hard work and dedication is on the line. When you cross the finish line, I guarantee you that the first emotion you will feel is relief. The joy or disappointment will come later. But if you have given it your very best, there will be a deep sense of satisfaction because, let`s face it, very few people run for office or run a marathon. Trying and failing is much better than not trying at all. ( With thanks to Tennyson who is responsible for one of my favorite lines : “ Tis better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all.” )

Good luck to all the candidates and to a few of my running friends trying to qualify for Boston.

Have a great week.