Hanging out with some of my mom’s family for a couple of days in Saskatchewan. We got Gramma’s condo cleaned out faster than we thought so we headed to my Auntie Felicia’s farm.
Two thoughts running through my mind this past day. One – you can’t take it with you. Gramma’s condo was full of stuff. Anyone who has ever moved knows the amount of stuff one accumulates. At the end of her days I bet what was more important than the possesions she had was the family gathered around her.
The other thought is about one of my uncles. I’ve noticed over the past few days the man doesn’t get a chance to finish a sentence. He starts many, and without fail either a sister, brother, wife or in-law interrupts to take over or ignores him and talks over top of him. So I asked him last night if he ever gets a chance to finish a sentence. He laughed and said “No! I’m the youngest of 14; I’m used to it.” When I woke up this morning I though of the perfect antidote for my uncle… a talking piece council. Time for him to speak without interruption, experiencing the gift of being listened to.
