Time With Tandy

Inspirational author and speaker

Time With Tandy

Inspirational author and speaker

Tag: inspiration

  • Breaching the Dam

    “Have you seen how fast that beaver dam is growing?”, he said.

    I stopped walking along the path by the creek to look in the direction the man had pointed out.

    When I said I hadn’t noticed the dam before, he told me it had only been there for two weeks.

    “Every day it’s bigger,” he said.

    Water flowing downstream was starting to back up. I wondered how long it would be before it either diverted to and flooded another low lying area, or breached the dam. It couldn’t keep backing up without some sort of release.

    This thought stayed with me as I continued my walk. The analogy to my grief journey was not lost on me.

    People ask me how I’m doing and I paste on a smile and say, “fine.” I hold back my tears.

    I’m driving and something on the radio triggers a memory. I fight back my tears as they aren’t compatible with driving safely.

    I’m talking with a family member and my eyes well up. I do my best not to cry. They are dealing with their own grief and don’t need mine compounding it.

    All the while, my grief is suppressed. I tell myself that tears are a sign of weakness, something I need to apologize for. They make others feel uncomfortable, so I don’t release them. Even the overflows I can’t stop are carefully controlled.

    The pressure builds. The tears will not be denied. Alone in my room, I feel the dam being breached. My carefully structured composure collapses, bringing a flood of waterworks. I give in and let it run its course.

    Afterwards, I realize how much better I feel. The pressure that had been building in me has been released. I discover that tears are not a sign of weakness. They are a language of their own, expressing feelings I have no words for. They are essential to my healing.

  • Catlike Grief

    I’ve come to the conclusion that grief is like a cat. They are both somewhat unpredictable.

    Sometimes it turns its head and ignores me. We peacefully co-exist but there is little interaction.I can almost forget it is in the room with me.

    Other times it arches its back and hisses at me. I jump back, wondering what happened to set it off. Still worse is when the claws come out and blood is drawn. This usually happens at times I least expect it. I need to hide away afterwards and tend to my wounds.

    Then there are days like yesterday. I looked around my living room and saw so many reminders of the life and love I’d shared with my husband. My metaphorical grief cat curled up on my lap. Whether it was there to comfort or to be comforted, I don’t know. Either way, we had some special moments as I stroked its soft fur and felt its heartbeat. We bonded in a new way.

    I’d never thought of grief in these terms before. Last night I dreamt about cats and wondered why. This morning I thought about it and understood.

  • My Hallmark Love Story


    I’d never thought of our story as being like a Hallmark romance movie until Brian mentioned it to me just over a year ago. Once he explained his reasoning, I understood why I’m such a fan of these movies.

    It may seem like the plots are predictable and the couple falls in love too quickly. To me, they are a reflection of my love story with Brian.

    I was eighteen when Brian first caught my attention. I was working as a hostess/cashier at Smitty’s Pancake House in a new shopping centre. Brian was managing a lighting store in the mall. He came into the restaurant daily and our easy bantering soon turned into flirting. He had an amazing Scottish accent and I loved to hear him speak!

    One day we talked about being tired of the same old food on the menu and I mentioned Chinese food. He asked what time I got off work. I spent the rest of my shift in anticipation. When I was closed up the restaurant that night, he was no where to be seen. I waited a bit and then offered to drive a couple of the restaurant cooks home. Maybe I misunderstood and he hadn’t really asked me out.

    I found out later, he’d gone back to his hotel to change clothes and raced back just in time to see me drive off with a couple of other guys. Not the best impression to make!

    He avoided me for a week or two until I went into his store to buy something I didn’t need, just so I could talk to him. A few days later, Brian asked me out again. Due to a family commitment, I couldn’t accept. I thought I’d really blown it this time.

    Meanwhile, I left my job in the restaurant and went to work in the Hallmark Card store in the mall. I was smart enough to let him know where I was going so he’d be able to find me if he wanted to.

    One day he showed up in the store and asked me out again. When I said, “Yes” he told me that it was his birthday and he’d been prepared to use that to convince me to agree!

    Our first date was a few days later. After that, I started dreaming of our life together. A couple of weeks later Brian had to go out of town to prepare another store for opening. We relied on nightly phone calls and weekend visits eased the time apart. We also mailed each other Hallmark cards every day!

    Ten weeks after our first date we were engaged. Four months later we were married. I had just turned nineteen.

    Our happily ever after lasted for 52 years. Through good times and bad, joys and sorrows, adventures and challenges, our constant was laughter (Brian had an incredible sense of humour) and deep love. 

    Our first date was days after Brian’s 25th birthday. Our last date, was two days after he turned 77. I was by his side and able to tell him how much he was loved before he quietly slipped away. 

    Today would have been our 52nd anniversary. It seemed the perfect time to reminisce about our Hallmark love story. We never get to see how the ones in the movies turned out, but mine stood the test of time. The legacy of love Brian left behind will live in my heart forever.

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  • It’s Not Enough

    too small, big enoughRivulets of water ran down my body as I pulled back the shower curtain and stepped onto the bath mat. My hand automatically reached for the towel, even while my eyes stared in disbelief. My bath towel was nowhere to be seen.

    Too late, I remembered my plan to replace it after doing laundry the previous day. It had slipped my mind and now I would pay the price for my lack of attention.

    I scanned the bathroom and my gaze rested on a hand towel. At least I could get some of the water off of me before I dripped my way to the linen closet.

    Much to my surprise, I dried my entire body with this one small towel. Until I did it, I wouldn’t have thought it possible. My oversize bath sheet was not the necessity I thought, but a luxury.

    My mind drifted back to this several times over the next few days. How many times in the past had I failed to be grateful for what I had, thinking it was not enough?

    The Bible tells us to give thanks in everything. This is not always easy to do. I have found that, like the miracle of the loaves and fishes, when I thank God for what He has provided for me, my needs are always met.

    That is why my gratitude journal tonight will contain an unusual entry; one that expresses thanks for the reminder that a small towel is enough.

  • Not an Adventure Race

    reflection, natureYesterday, my steps were lively when I went for a brisk morning walk. When I set out this morning, that energy was sadly lacking.

    The muscles in my legs cried out in protest. My breaths were shallow and laboured.

    Several times I considered turning back. Images of the adventure race we’d watched on TV last night flickered through my mind. “At least I’m on a paved path and not slogging through dense jungle or climbing a rope up the rocky face of a waterfall,” I thought. Resolutely, I put one foot in front of the other with the knowledge I would complete the five kilometers I’d set out to do.

    I slowed my pace a little and a strange thing happened. My attitude shifted. Body aches were no longer felt and my grumbling turned to gratitude for the beauty of nature surrounding me. Golden leaves highlighted by bright sunshine were noticed and appreciated. The smooth waters of the pond reflected a fountain and the shore grasses. I stopped several times to take pictures.

    Attuned to my surroundings rather than racing ahead, I heard a splash in the creek and stopped to watch a muskrat barely ripple the water as it swam downstream. Had all of this been here yesterday and I’d failed to notice?

    I was reminded how much I miss when I am so focused on the goal that I forget to enjoy the journey. I smiled as I continued my walk, wondering what adventure I’d find around the bend now that I was no longer racing against the clock.

  • One Weed At A Time

    garden, weeds,“You have a beautiful yard,” I told my friend. “It must take a lot of time and effort to maintain.” “I do spend many hours weeding,” Robert admitted. Then he shared a wisdom that is both simple and profound. “If I look at the entire task, it can be overwhelming. I’ve learned to tackle it one weed at a time.” One weed at a time. That is a great motto for life! What does this phrase say to you? Weeds left unattended in a garden will take over and choke out the good plants. In the same way, weeds in my life can also choke out the good things. It is unrealistic to think I can eliminate all of the weeds, or negative attitudes and behaviours in my life in one fell swoop. I can, however, work on them bit by bit. When I release a grudge I hold, the anger is loosened making it easier to uproot and get rid of it. By pulling out this weed, peace and forgiveness are able to take root in its place. Every time I choose love and understanding over judgement, another weed is removed.garden I am most productive when I focus only on the weed directly in front of me and spend the time necessary to get to the root of the matter. Some require more digging in order to unearth them. Thanks to Robert’s advice, I will no longer be discouraged by the task in front of me. Instead, I will glance back and appreciate how far I’ve come, one weed at a time.

  • Short Leash

    pet, responsibility, care“Would you be able to keep Oreo for about 5 days?” my friend asked. Many years had passed since we’d been responsible for a pet but this cute little hypo-allergenic dog knew us and shouldn’t be a problem so we agreed to take care of her.

    As we were temporarily living in a campground and not a home with a fenced backyard, I had to ensure she was on a leash every time we stepped outside.

    I soon learned that she sometimes wanted to go places that she shouldn’t. Some, like the neighbour’s campsite weren’t appropriate. Others, like in front of an oncoming vehicle were not safe.

    At those time I would shorten her leash. This made her unhappy and she would balk and strain against me to go her own way. I chose her well-being over her immediate happiness.

    I also discovered there was little patience when I stopped to clean up after her. She wanted to be off again right away.

    It occurred to me that God sometimes has to keep me on a short leash. I complain and want to go farther than I’m being allowed. I forget that what I want isn’t always what is best for me. When I make a mess of things, I just want to move away and put it behind me. God, however, makes me wait until the clean-up has been taken care of.

    Most of the time I’m free to roam where I choose. It is only when my behaviour becomes a problem that I feel the tug of my conscience. This is my Master, reminding me of His care and protection. When I look at it that way, I can appreciate the occasional need for a short leash.

  • One Shoe Dance

    dance, distraction, perseveranceEmily is passionate about Highland Dancing. She works hard and was starting to “place” in competitions. One of the dances was more of a challenge than the others.

    In the Sword Dance, two swords are placed on the floor in a cross pattern. The complicated dance steps move between and around each quadrant. Avoiding contact with the swords adds another layer of difficulty. Demerit points are issued if one is touched.

    At one competition Emily took her place behind the swords. The piper started playing. In the first eight beats of music she prepared for the dance by positioning herself and placing hands on hips. In the next eight beats she made eye contact with the adjudicator and gave a slight bow. Eight more beats and with arms high above her head, the dance started.dance, missing shoe

    As Emily executed the intricate steps, the lace on her right shoe started to loosen. Soon the shoe was completely untied. Instead of being distracted, she kept her focus – even when the shoe worked its way completely off of her foot. Her steps remained quick and accurate. The dance ended, Emily bowed again to the adjudicator and smiled as she picked up her shoe. She had completed the dance without touching a sword. Even better, she “placed” in the sword dance that day.

    Emily’s focus and determination taught me an important lesson. Unexpected challenges may come my way but I don’t need to let them stop me. If I focus on my goal rather than the distraction, I, too, can end up a winner.

  • White Water Revelations

    Last year at this time, when social distancing was an unknown concept, I embarked on an adventure with my granddaughter. It was the first time either of us had gone white water rafting and both of us enjoyed it. In fact, our plan was to choose a trip with larger rapids this year.

    Under current conditions, that is not likely to happen. Instead, I will relive the memories from last year and reflect on how what I learned is still serving me today.

    My immediate thought is how fear almost robbed me of an exhilarating experience. My mind built up a resistance to the unknown that almost paralyzed me. To counteract the fear, my granddaughter Faith, literally took my hand and, with gentle reassurance, led me to the raft. I couldn’t have done it on my own.

    On the river, our guide taught us about teamwork. If he shouted, “Left”, we put our paddles in on the left side of the raft. We would paddle hard on that side until he shouted, “Right” and we’d paddle on the other side. After we navigated through rapids, we would be told to lift our paddles and rest.

    Each period of hard work was followed by a brief rest. The rest was to give us the strength to face the next set of rapids.

    I learned two lessons in this. The first is I don’t need to get through turbulent times on my own. There are always others who will come alongside and help me paddle until I reach smooth waters. Teamwork makes us stronger.
    The second lesson was to take advantage of opportunities to rest, when they come along. This doesn’t mean drifting aimlessly off course, but rebuilding endurance to face the next set of trials. There will inevitably be another rough patch at some point and I want to be prepared to face it.

    The guide on our raft was also a reminder of the importance of having someone trustworthy to give direction. I choose to put my trust in Jesus. He has guided me through rough waters in the past and is always available when I call on Him. Sometimes the direction comes from a distance and other times I feel him take my hand and assure me everything will be alright. There is no one I’d rather have beside me in the adventure of this life.

  • The End of a Chapter

    #inspiration, value, beautyA few days ago, my husband and I looked around our empty house for the last time, left a note and the keys on the counter, closed the door and drove away. Our home of fifteen years was about to become the home of another family.

    One chapter of our lives had concluded. The story written in that chapter began when we arrived in Alberta, happy to be closer to our children and two grandchildren. In the following pages our joy increased as we welcomed new members, including five more grandchildren to the family. The rooms were often graced with the sweet sound of laughter as we gathered for meals and sleepovers with grandchildren.

    The years passed in what seemed like the blink of an eye. The lives of our children and grandchildren have become busier as ours have slowed down. My husband and I are now retired and the upkeep required with a house is not as appealing as it once was.

    Still, the decision to close this chapter was not an easy one. There comes a time, however, when in order to move forward, we need to let go of things that are holding us in the past. That time had come.

    I am grateful for the chapter we’ve just closed. Its pages contained opportunities, activities and experiences indelibly imprinted in my memory.

    The story is far from over and as we turn the page to start the next chapter, I’m excited to see how it continues.