Jet is so crowded.
My space is far too small.
It’s too bad airplanes went from liners to crowded cattle pens.
Attendant smiles down at me.
“Back for another few weeks?”
We chat awhile both realizing we’ve become fast friends.
Climb, and circle Bell Island.
Make for the Mainland
Headphones block the engines but not the whispers from those I left behind.
Plane change at Pearson.
Stretch and a status update.
Then back on board, for the last leg, try to get in the working frame of mind.
Seems so long ago
growing up by the water.
The ocean and forest sustained us; the way ahead seemed so clear.
But change is all around us;
a shrinking world, no escape.
Can’t make a living that way now so I follow jobs they have here.
But still it seems to me
maybe we’re not that different.
Those fishers and woods folk would feel at home in camps where we are now.
We all do what we have to,
enjoy the time we get at home,
and always keep one eye on the future, enjoying what circumstances allow.
And as for what’s ahead
not for me to say.
I’ll play the hand I’ve been given; make the best of it I can.
Perhaps sometime soon
I won’t have to do this.
But for now, just keeping it all together is as much as I can plan.
So over the prairies
to the foot of the mountains,
catch the bus from Fort Mac; ‘phones drowning out voices in my ear.
Music from way back home,
some help from FaceTime.
I close my eyes, holding on to memories of the ones that are so dear.
It’s Thanksgiving weekend in Canada. Once again, looking around I realize just how much there is to be thankful for: a good job, a safe place to live, a roof over my head, friends and, best of all, a family that I love so very much. This year, though, I’m especially grateful to a couple of friends whose generosity has made this time just a bit more special. Consider this little song a way of saying “thank-you.”