Merry Christmas to Mama

Last Friday we decided to open our presents on Sunday because of our getaway to Cuba tomorrow. By that time I managed to get all the presents in order for Santa to claim his jobs well done. My son kept a very good inventory of all of the colourful packages under the tree and took notice of every new one. He just kept asking why Santa had not left my present yet! He was very concerned about that. So finally Saturday evening he sat me down on the sofa and asked what would happened if Santa had actually missed my present? I told him that maybe Santa had perceived me as a "naughty girl" this year for some reason. He didn't want to accept my answers. I could see the growing concern that it was almost Sunday and there was nothing under the tree for me.

We all got home Saturday evening. I was in the kitchen making snacks for our family evening with a movie. We call it "paaty" with a Japanese accent which actually means 'a party' in Japan. So I was standing in the kitchen getting ready dips, fruits, veggies, and chips. But I could hear a commotion in the bathroom. Crumpling of paper, scissors and slamming of the closet door. Finally, it stopped. My son was back in the kitchen to bother me about presents. He asked about daddy's presents and other Christmas affairs.  At one point, I passed by the Christmas tree and noticed a blue card underneath and a small present, obviously packed by my son. I pretended not to notice them and walked on but inside my heart was melting. I wanted to jump out of my skin and dance. He made me feel special and so happy as a mother. He was saving my honour! My little knight! He didn't want me to think that I was on a naughty list with "Santa" so he made a little package and a card for me! My brave knight! I love him beyond my life! Whatever was there in that crumpled ball of wrapping paper was the best gift a mother could get!

Sunday. After my sons'd dance competition we got home, got into comfy clothes and proceeded with the presents. My son was in charge of the order of all packages and the ceremony. Naturally, it was noticed that a present "from Santa"(wink wink) magically appeared that morning. It was addressed for me.

I got my first present handed to me. It was that blue card. I looked at it. The big letters spelled "MArry Christmas!" I smirked. "I am loving it!" I thought. But I was not ready for the attachment that was waiting for me inside. So I opened the card and there it was a drawing of my Christmas tree and taped to it there was some 50 or 60 cents in small change! My little angel, my knight! He gave me what he could to make me feel good. Love love love! I laughed uncontrollably for a good 5 minutes. Wow! Children are amazing, honest and loving beings. I wish I could preserve my little knight forever. But I know this little knight will one day turn into a regular King Arthur. Now I know for sure!

Merry Christmas, friends! I want to wish you all that you dream of and all that you are hoping for in the new year. I am sending all my love to You. Thank you for following me on my journey for sanity and mental health. It has been a great blog year for me, all thanks to You. ALL thanks to your support and positive energy! I am very lucky to have you with me! I promise to be back next year 2018!
Feliz Navidad for my family and me. Hello Cuba!

I Got Mail!

I opened my mailbox and saw a letter. I will not hide that it is a surprise these days. Usually there are many bills, receipts, promotional mail, etc. You know what i mean because we are all the same in this aspect. It is global. But here it was - A LETTER. I slowly took it out and looked at the address where it came from. I touched it and new it before i read it. At the opening there was a delicate pink sticker shaped like a cherry blossom. My old friend from Japan is an old school, artistic and crafty lady from Maebashi. She is one of the last people on Earth where a letter written by hand and addressed in your own hand writing means a lot more than writing texts a million per second. I get two letters per year from her. Every time I hold my breath in excitement. I always write to her via email. But she only replied by post. I LOVE her for it!

So I took out the letter from the mailbox and brought it home in two hands like the biggest, most precious relic. Here it is beside me as I write this. I wanted to share this act and this moment with you all. For I am sure it has been a while since you got a letter by mail. Oh gosh, the sticker that binds the opening with the body of the envelope is absolutely gorgeous. I fli the envelop. It is addressed to all three of us. First my name, then my husbands, then my son's and at last our last name. At the bottom, in a read marker, so old style, I remember doing this in Poland, it spells "AIR MAIL". The stamp is with an old japan street scene, stamped Nippon 110 yen. Here I go I am opening. I know that my friend is a very talented artist and she never disappoints with her calligraphy and the visual atmosphere of the letter. I know it is for New Year. Wait I am opening. I don't want to tear in half that lovely Sakura, Cherry Blossom.

Wow! Out comes a red card with raised in gold borders. In the middle there are Cherry blossoms. Some are pink, orange and white.At the top it says in English "Merry Christmas." I want to open it and a letter written on a yellow sheet of paper falls out. She always does it. I am so excited  cuz I know she wrote me a short letter about her days and what is happening in Japan. I wish I could hug her right this minute. My dear, dear friend! But I go back to the card without opening the letter just yet! As usually, my friend did some incredible calligraphy in Japanese using kanji and hiragana. I love her for it! The writing goes from top right to left  as the old style Japanese required. My friend used to be my to-go-to expert and a teacher in Japanese custom and tradition.  At the top left corner there is the cutest stamp of a snow flake in gold and right in the middle a symbol of a clef key. I Can't read what the card says but visually I am loving every stroke of the brush. I hope I get to thank her for this one day! This is the best! I am smiling as I am writing!

The letter is folded twice. I see two pages! Nice! I want to dive in! The letter is typed and printed. Just for me! I feel so special!I read it and some information is sad and some good and up beat. This letter certainly deserves my reply in handwriting. She writes that the tea ceremony teacher that we had pleasure to meet had passed away. It is sad how this wise and kind generation is leaving us but there is nothing we can do to stop it from happening. She also writes about her travels. I am amazed and very jealous! She went to Sakhalin recently to have some nice fresh fish. Seriously! She and her husband know the essence of good travel!

She doesn't forget to teach me something about Japanese traditions. This time she mentions Shichi-Go-San (7-5-3). She writes that she helped her granddaughter to put on a kimono. She is always so thoughtful. I go back in my thoughts to the time when one of my friends from Canada came to visit us in Chichibu. My dear friend from Maebashi came to meet her in her kimono looking stunning! Such am amazing, graceful, the most tactful and proper lady! She moves like an angel on clouds. I want to thank her so much for all this! If only I could let her know how much pleasure and joy she gives me and my family by sending these letters. I will be waiting for another around my birthday! I wish i new what I have done to deserve such kindness and thoughtfulness from you! I pt the letter the way it was and reseal with that wonderful Sakura sticker. I will cherish it. I will put in my box with other letters from her. They are masterpieces of art and perfect examples of incredible Japanese art of using paper and the ultimate aesthetic means to amaze the Western world!

Thank you my dear friend! I am sending thousands of hugs and kisses! May this coming 2018 be an amazing and the most fortunate year for you and your entire family!

* I haven't posted pictures of this letter. There is a method in my madness. The imagination will help you complete a picture in your mind. Happy Friday tomorrow my friends!

Time

Last Saturday I attended my son's Christmas Assembly/Show/Party at his Japanese school. One of the classes prepared this famous song Ojisan no Tokei (Granddad's Watch) It talks about this clock tick tacking and ticking like a beat of this man's heart. As the grand daddy slows down the watch slows down bt keeps going. And at the end, well, we all understand the story. It got me thinking about time. It is very important to me. Precious. And it is unforgiven if somebody wastes my sacred time. It is important to always be on time and never make others wait because it is disrespectful and wasteful of somebody's life. I have always been very faithful to this principle to never ever be late. A set date is written in stone for me. An appointment, interview, meeting must always start and be attended on time if not early.

List Do Sw. Mikolaja (Letter To Santa)

So here I am thinking, when has it become important to me - time? When I was young I never thought about time running away, passing. I never rushed to do things because of lack of time. Nagging, hurrying time didn't exist, until one day. I did some digging in my art and found this painting. Hence, I can put an actual date and place on when time became important to me. It was when for the first time in my life I desired to posses a watch! And here is it! Kashiwara, Japan, December 2002! We are living in between Osaka and Nara. We cycle a lot. We spend a lot of time as a couple, in fact so much that there isn't a lot of time nor opportunity to argue. I work at a private language school, (juku). We have a two store house, provided by my boss for $200 a month. We raise two lovely but naughty cats. I teach all ages in afternoons and evenings. The work is demanding and very exhausting but gives a lot of satisfaction since I feel appreciated. Then, after work we go for walks by the river or local sento (baths). On weekends we get to know Osaka by bike, participate in many local and not so local festivals. We rent movies at Tsutaya or picnic in front of our house. The owners of my school also own a little but locally very well known winery and a liquor store. We could always count on good wine for our dinners and evenings. Great time. Is this why I decide to measure it? Section it into little millimeters on the face of my watch? Analyse this, my friends!

Time - Pink Floyd

This piece was created as my letter to Santa. It was my artistic outlet as well a way of making it clear and easy for my husband to do Christmas shopping. I remember that year i got the most beautiful Seiko watch with dark blue face and silver arms. It was fed by sunlight. This watch made it a true pleasure to keep track of time and pressure it to  be consistent and mine always!

Today is an anniversary of that Saturday in December when they didn't have TELERANEK for kids in Poland, 13 December, 1981. Happy Wednesday!

I Am All Shook Up

It is Friday morning. As usually I get my son ready for school. We sit down together and spend a good 15 -20 minutes on a calm, unrushed breakfast and a conversation. We plan what we will be doing after school. 8:20, we are at the door despite the fact that the school bus comes at 8:33. My son wants to be the first one in the line up to the bus. Apparently there is an race among the kids every morning! The bus drives away into the blissful school day and a joy of public education system. Friday is my busy day. I have to get some Christmas shopping done. So I rush home. I get to the building and decide to take the closest entrance possible, on the side of the building. All of a sudden I hear a frantic scream of a woman. It comes from the building next door, right across from my balcony. I know this woman so well. She moved in recently. And she caught my attention because her curtains are always shut. In fact, I think they are hammered into the wall. She must be working nights, I deduce. Also, you can hear her from time to time on the balcony happily talk in Spanish on the phone. Maybe she is Cuban...

And now I see this woman standing in the freezing cold on her balcony in her sleeping gown! She is screaming "No! No! NO!" Over and over again. I see people standing across the street just looking. Some come out of her building, some on their balconies. Open and shut the door case for them. I walk up closer to her. She is on the second floor so I can easily talk to her. I ask her what is wrong, if i can help her but she keeps repeating the same "No!" She goes in and out of the balcony. The last time I see her she is talking to someone on the phone. I believe it is the 911 operator. Judging from the situation and from her appearance the ambulance is not for her. She seems totally fine, apart for the mental distress. Possibly she has discovered a loved one unalive this morning. I am so sorry. So sorry. How can I help. I walk over to the entrance of the building. I call the superintendent. He doesn't pick up. However, in a quick moment he shows up at the door. He looks like he knows what I am abot to say. Lady in distress, crying on her balcony on the second floor. The middle balcony on the eastern side, almost above you. "Ok. I will check what she needs right away." I am thinking what a kind and good man he is. He will help her.

And this how my Friday started. I keep thinking about vulnerability of humans as I walk towards my apartment. I am so sorry for her. The minute I walk in home I go to the balcony just to check if maybe I can be of help to her. But she doesn't show up any more. Later I walk out to go to the store and see an ambulance parked at the front of the building. It arrived without a signal...

Star Struck by a Mother

Last Friday I found myself at Dundas West Subway Station. And normally if it wasn't for the buggy filled with shopping that I had with me I would have taken the stairs to the platform. Barely, but my son and I made it to the elevator before the doors closed. Inside I quickly assessed our situation and looked around the other passengers' faces. There were two other, older ladies who looked like they knew each other. There were three early teenage age kids and a mother with one daughter in a stroller and one baby strapped to her bosom. The mother wore khaki parka, wide ankle jeans torn at the very bottom. She had a bag and both pockets filled with mommy stuff to the brim. I took a moment to look at her amazing strawberry red hair.  She carried herself in an extremely calm and contained manner despite the fact that she was accompanied by 5 kids! After all it was P.A day at school and you could see a lot of parent with kids and school-age kids and their friends all over the TTC subway system that day. Naturally, I presumed she was babysitting.

A Flower for Every Mother, 2016

One of the older ladies threw a question at the mother, at the same time, breaking a moment of silence, " All five are yours?" The fire-headed woman smiled and confirmed. But all of a sudden from the corner a boy and a girl said in unison, " there are nine of us! The others are older so they send time on their own."  Whaaaaaaaat! Is it humanly possible? Nine kids? Voices in my head were screaming out of their minds (all of them)! Nine kids! All hers? And she is just calmly standing here looking so firm and ...sane? The older ladies were not unshaken either. Both women smiled, we all looked at other other and one of them said, " I bet ya there is not a dull moment in your home." At the same time the elevator doors opened and we all strolled out onto the platform. A few steps later when my son and I stood already in a train I noticed that the 9-children-woman got on and was now standing right beside me. She recognised me from the elevator and smiled. I couldn't resist. I had to say it to her. " YOU ARE MY HERO! I ADMIRE YOU!" She looked a bit embarrassed but she thanked me. I definitely felt a connection. We looked at each other. I wanted to talk to her, investigate, find out, learn about the secret to her confidence and bravery. But I didn't dare to disturb her any further.  She looked my age. Calm. Confident. Strong. Almost athletic. A Heroine. How does she do it, I thought! Where does she get the strength? This was unbelievable. I felt like I was standing beside a celebrity. Soon after the announcement said Ossington Station, the door opened and she and her group of five kids silently and smoothly flew out of the train. All in unison. There was no nagging, no crying, complaining nor questioning. I witnessed this miracle. And if I didn't see it with my own two eyes I would not believe it. I wish I could meet her again and talk to her. Can you imagine her day? How does she get them all ready for school. How does she deal with clothes? Swimming, dance, art lessons. What about homework and parent teacher meetings? Wow! I have so many questions!

Mother and Her Son, 2013

I have only one little boy. There is so much talk and nag and convincing that one is enough. But I have to admit that there is a lot of envy and admiration for this woman!  I think I will keep saying wow for another week!

The Woman Who Fell to Earth - Julienne Koepcke

Today I learned that what is meant to happen will happen. And what is not written in the books will not. In 1972, on Christmas Eve there was a plane crush in the Peruvian jungle. There was only one survivor out of 92 passengers. Her name was Julienne Koepcke. A 17 year old daughter of two German biologists. She was travelling with her mother when their plane got hit by lightening and Julienne got thrown out of the plane while still strapped to her seat. She was later named "The woman who fell to earth". I read her account of the events and it is really blood freezing. I read that she could see how the earth was getting closer to her while her feet were dangling up in the air. When she was travelling through the air to the earth she heard silence, as if someone turned on a mute button. A thrilling story. And then, as if it wasn't enough, she woke up in the middle of the rainforest. She walked, swam and walked some more to her destiny - survival. This 17 year old girl remembered every lesson her parents taught her about survival in the jungle. She pushed on for 11 days only drinking river water before some lumberjacks found her and delivered her to safety. She was found on January 3rd, 1972.

It is absolutely an amazing story of someone who was meant to live. When I read about her today my first thought was about the possible reason, the plan for her. We all have a story written for us. So did she. I had to find out why fate failed to kill her twice. What was so important? What possibly could her task be to go against the grain and win?

Julienne Koepcke, now Dr. Diller is a biologist. She followed her parents footsteps into the world of science. She is a biologist and a librarian at Bavarian State Collection of Zoology. A woman who fell 10,000 ft. to the ground and suffered minor injuries! What a story to tell. It makes me feel very hopeful and trusting that what is meant to happen will. This brings a few wise words of Fidel Castro, also from the Seventies'. When he travelled to USA to speak at the UN, there were rumours that some people planned his assassination. He replied :" No one dies before her or his time! So I am calm." I am so taken by this story. I am going to think about mine all day and night...

Have a good and safe Thursday, my friends!