tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-67646202024-03-05T11:07:37.103-08:00My Irish LifeMariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03256998823947399911noreply@blogger.comBlogger32125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6764620.post-24853803881970064212022-02-03T16:30:00.029-08:002022-02-05T13:36:52.362-08:00St. John's and Waterford - Twin Cities<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Here's a little story about the twinning of St. John's and Waterford that I published 20 years ago in my "Dublin Diary" in the <u>Downhomer</u>. I have transcribed it below the image because it's a bit hard to read otherwise!</div><div><br /></div><div>Nowadays our technology and social media allow all kinds of international groups to flourish without financial support from governments, so there is still an Ireland-Newfoundland group that meets online to celebrate shared culture and heritage but it's all very informal.</div><div><br /></div><div>Text below the photo...</div><div><br /></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Dublin Diary</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">by Marie Stamp</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Dublin, Ireland</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">(Formerly of St. John's, Newfoundland)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
Here's a trivia challenge for you (Newfoundlanders). Name this town: it's the oldest city in the country, it owes its early prosperity to the fish trade, it sits atop rolling hills, and straddles a body of water that serves as a major port for transatlantic shipping and international cruise liners.</div>
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Need more clues? How about some street names, such as Military Road and Patrick Street? What if I told you the inhabitants have family names like Aylward, Brennan, Byrne, Cahill, Doyle, Hogan, Lawlor, Maher, Roche, Walsh and Whelan? Yes, I'm leading you on. It's not St. John's, Newfoundland but Waterford, Ireland.</div>
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St. John's and Waterford are about to engage in an official twinning of cities, and what is striking about the proposal is how much the two actually have in common. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Despite what the term implies, municipal twinning is not a process of identifying a similar town. It has much more to do with a discovery of how the two cities can cooperate for mutual benefit. This usually revolves around an exchange of information and ideas about good governance or efforts to promote trade and investment, or reciprocal visits involving youth and culture.</div>
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Ultimately, relationships between towns boil down to relationships between the people in the towns, and are subject to the same sorts of perils and opportunities. If the partners in a city-twinning have little in common, sooner or later the imbalance in their financial commitment or enthusiasm for the partnership will cause it to fizzle out. St. John's has been "twinned" before, in friendly relationships with such disparate places as Accra, Ghana and Illhavo, Portugal. The relationship between St. John's and Waterford might have even greater potential. But its scope and success will depend on the variety and quality of the personal connections that develop between the people in each place.</div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">It's off to a good start. In fact, personal connections are how the idea came up in the first place. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">It started with the active involvement of the St. John's Board of Trade (BOT) in the Ireland-Newfoundland Partnership, and the mission to Ireland in October 2000. Gail Ryan, Manager of Operations at the BOT, and with the avid keenness for all things Irish that her name implies, had a pivotal role in soldering relationships. She and Elizabeth Lawrence, Manager of Economic Development at the City of St. John's, work closely together on projects of mutual interest. A year ago they began discussing the potential for a City/BOT joint mission to Ireland and the possibility of a city twinning. In mid-June of 2001, Gail wrote to me to ask for suggestions. I raised it with Agnes Aylward, the County-Waterford-born Executive Director of the Ireland-Newfoundland partnership in Dublin. The rest is... well, great good fortune.</div>
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Agnes travelled twice to Newfoundland last year, and describes her visit as something of a homecoming.</div>
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"It's difficult to put into words the strange sense of kinship I felt with the history, the landscape and the people of the place," Agnes says. "I was keen on my new job with the Partnership to begin with, but I was completely won over after my visit. I think most people form my part of the world would be equally moved by what I experienced."</div>
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Agnes recruited three key people from Waterford to join the Irish mission to Newfoundland in September 2001. Eamonn McEneany, Director of the Waterford Treasures Museum, Joe Palmer, Director of South East Tourism, and Frank O'Donoghue, Chief Executive of the Waterford Chamber of Commerce. The trio made an impression on the St. John's Mayor Andy Wells.</div>
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The connections that resulted from that visit have been gathering momentum ever since. Agnes Aylward has now hired a St. John's native, Andrea Thompson, on a one-year contract as Economic Development Officer at the Partnership office in Dubin. The effort has led to a collaboration to establish a permanent historical exhibit on the St. John's - Waterford connection at the Waterford Treasures Museum. Tourism and cruise-ship linkages are being considered, and business activities and cultural exchanges are in the offing.</div>
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The official twinning is slated for the fall of 2002, most likely on the occasion of the next Newfoundland mission to Ireland. Mayor Andy Wells has written to Mr. Harry Quinlan, Mayor of Waterford, to confirm their respective interest in the deal. For now the two towns are engaged in something of a long-distance courtship, learning a much about each other as they can to prepare for the official alliance.</div>
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It's an interesting discovery for both partners. Waterford is the oldest city in Ireland, established by Vikings in AD 914. The city grew to become the third busiest port in Ireland in the 18th century, and one of the most important trade routes was that with Newfoundland. Not only did the city's merchants provision the English ships sailing to Newfoundland for the fishing season, but Waterford fishermen and mariners found much-needed employment there also.</div>
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An estimated 30,000-35,000 people from Waterford and surrounding areas settled in Newfoundland between 1800 and 1830. This represents the largest pre-Famine exodus from Ireland. According to Eamonn McEneany, in his "City Guide to Waterford", "the Waterford origins of the emigrants have given Newfoundland culture and spoken English a distinctive flavour, and even to this day the inhabitants [of Newfoundland], although separated by the Atlantic Ocean, still speak with an unmistakeable Waterford accent."</div>
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One of Waterford's most prominent mayors of the 19th century was a Newfoundlander named Thomas Meagher (pronounced like "Maher"), the son of an emigrant. While our provincial capital claims a Waterford River and a hospital of the same name, so does Waterford boast a St. John's River and a St. John's hospital. The prosperity brought to Waterford through the fishery also contributed to the fortunes of Ignatius Rice. The Waterford merchant used his wealth to found the Irish Christian Brothers, who educated so many Newfoundlanders over the centuries.</div>
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Today Waterford and St. John's share a struggle to diversify their economies, attract more high-tech and service industry jobs, and project a modern, cosmopolitan image. Waterford today is home to a wide range of international companies in the pharmaceutical, financial services, health care, computer engineering and software sectors. Of course, there is still a good deal of traditional economic activity and the famous crystal factory. Tourism plays an increasingly important role in the city's economy, and the arts scene is vibrant. The international cruise-line business is growing too, and brings a regular stream of visitors to the city in the summer months.</div>
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Sounds a lot like St. John's.</div>
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Here's wishing well to the new friendships between the two towns. If the eye of a friend is a good mirror, as the Irish saying goes, then both will learn from each other and move closer to fulfilling their potential. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><i>---</i></div>
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Mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03256998823947399911noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6764620.post-24696735280972653032020-03-03T02:17:00.000-08:002020-03-04T11:41:21.398-08:00How to Live with Grief <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOurIQFvWK8sJ9P6k1EPXVh1PBoDI5O5d5HJFKr4JdlKH0iAge6IgEXvoXPUi8UECcnv9PyYXXaPoMjCVDlOUuwUV_Jq-MIpBneMm3FTlcQ1yOD_eD8Bh4Shgs_7P5dIiGxuFsGw/s1600/Dublin+Bay.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOurIQFvWK8sJ9P6k1EPXVh1PBoDI5O5d5HJFKr4JdlKH0iAge6IgEXvoXPUi8UECcnv9PyYXXaPoMjCVDlOUuwUV_Jq-MIpBneMm3FTlcQ1yOD_eD8Bh4Shgs_7P5dIiGxuFsGw/s320/Dublin+Bay.png" width="320" /></a>When you lose someone, either by death or separation, you may experience profoundly painful feelings. You are told that this is grief, and will soon receive plenty of advice about how to get over it.<br />
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The work we are often referred to is by a Swiss psychiatrist from the 1960s. Frustratingly, Dr. Elizabeth Kubler-Ross’ 1969 thesis on the stages of death and dying is continually misinterpreted and misused. The terminally-ill people for whom this work was intended, don’t survive their predicament.<br />
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For the rest of us, grief is not about how we die, it’s about how we go on living. There are no "five stages" that will package it all up for us.<br />
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Ironically perhaps, many people don’t want to stop grieving at all. Their aloneness with pain can be a kind of tribute, or a way to continue to share something profoundly intimate with the lost person. It is their way of carrying the person forward in their life, and they don’t accept that they should stop.<br />
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These feelings are perfectly legitimate but can become dangerous to the person feeling them. If the grieving person’s physical health and social functioning is severely affected for example, they may be experiencing what is known as unresolved or complicated grief. It is much more common than you think.<br />
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This happened to me, and I have a message of hope.<br />
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So... what is complicated grief, and what to do if you - or someone you care about - is dealing with it?<br />
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According to the Mayo Clinic (website), complicated grief occurs when painful emotions are so long-lasting and severe that you have trouble resuming your own life, or when these feelings do not fade after about a year. Symptoms can range from severe - when it is all you think about- to something harder to detect, such as numbness or detachment, profound bitterness, or an inability to find meaning or purpose. Other symptoms may also include a continued tendency to avoid social activities or blame yourself for what happened.<br />
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People most susceptible are women in middle age and beyond, and whose loss occurred in circumstances of a traumatic nature such as a violent death or the loss of a child, and which results in social isolation, loss of support systems and friendships, and other major life stressors.<br />
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If this is you or someone you know, there are a few things to keep in mind.<br />
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First, you need to understand that grief is normal and natural. It is not a personality disorder or a pathological condition. Complicated grief can happen to anyone.<br />
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Second, grief can be exacerbated by solitude. Our natural inclination is to keep what we think is a respectful distance from people who are grieving, and we are naturally afraid of saying the wrong thing. At the same time, the support of a social circle is really important. It is probably better to show up and say the wrong thing - or to let people show up and say the wrong thing- than add to the losses by keeping your distance. “You are not alone” is one of the most helpful things any of us can hear when we are in distress.<br />
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With professional support, complicated grief can be transformed. You will never go back to what you were, but you will be able to weave the experience into a new version of yourself.<br />
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You might discover a new sense of fearlessness, that the worst thing that could happen has happened, and you can afford to live life more boldly.<br />
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You may be more acutely aware of the value of unique moments with people you care about; you may have particular insights into what is important in life.<br />
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Your interactions might be more tolerant and forgiving than anything your feistier younger self was capable of. You may be capable of greater altruism, greater empathy, and perhaps greater forgiveness… without ever forgetting the person you lost.<br />
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Remember… grief is individual and unique. How long it takes to resolve is not about your weakness of mind or willpower, but it is not likely you can resolve it alone.<br />
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With the right professional help, and the support of those around us, we can find new ways to grow around the pain. Our lost loved one can still be part of it.<br />
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<i>Remembering my beautiful Thomas </i><br />
<i>(12 May 1998 - 3 March 2008)</i><br />
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CALL TO ACTION: If you live in a country where you have all the medical and financial security you need, and would like to share this good fortune with families with children in medical need as a result of the ongoing war in Syria, please consider a one-time donation to INARA. You won't be harassed with solicitations and even a $20 donation will make a difference. Please have a look at <a href="http://www.inara.org/" target="_blank">www.inara.org</a> </div>
Mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03256998823947399911noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6764620.post-76655127172130990432019-06-06T06:15:00.000-07:002019-06-06T08:21:48.690-07:00Presenting the 2nd Annual School Spirit Award in Thomas' Memory : Remember the Good Times<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Sun shining on any day of the year is a marvellous occasion on this rainy island, but when you're 12 and it's early evening on the last day of the school year... well... it's hard to be restrained indoors to present your little end-of-year concert in the school cafeteria to your parents.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">But they did it anyway. A class of adorable 6th form boys and (for the first time) girls graduating from St. Conleth's Junior School in Dublin did indeed manage to resist the fresh air and pizza until the little talent show was over. And it was heartwarming.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Displays of art and musicianship, impressive singing, public speaking and entertainingly goofy card tricks... all brought a lump to my throat. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">It's tough having to be reminded that Thomas didn't live long enough to graduate Junior School, to tell his favourite jokes in front of all the parents, or line up and take a bow with his friends. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">At the same time, those difficult feelings are mixed with tenderness and gratitude. As difficult as it was to be there, my purpose was to honour Thomas' memory among others who cared about him. If you have lost a child, short of wanting them back, this is what you most desire.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">A very dear family of friends were among the company last Thursday evening as Thomas' former teachers honoured his memory by awarding a trophy for school spirit. I am so thankful to all of them.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The winner this year was a little boy of mixed Irish and Italian heritage, who like Thomas had had to integrate into a new school and new family, and did so successfully. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I was invited to make some brief remarks before presenting it. </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Here they are... </span><br />
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<b><i>Presentation of the Thomas Stamp Tzvetkov Junior School Spirit Award</i></b></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Good evening boys and girls, and <span class="markirrxprl8b _2Th5e9ZyZUAFfXZXt-uLkQ" data-markjs="true" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: var(--themeLighter); border-radius: 2px; border: 0px; color: var(--themeDark); font: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 1px; text-decoration: inherit; vertical-align: baseline;">congratulations</span> on your graduation from Junior School!</span><span style="background-color: white; border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">I hope you had a great year. It seems you have had lots of good times in school here, and I think you are really lucky to go to this school.</span><span style="background-color: white; border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">And you have really nice teachers too. Miss Looms is really nice, isn’t she? You’re very lucky.</span><span style="background-color: white; border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">When I was in school - back in the olden days - I had really mean teachers.</span><span style="background-color: white; border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">I had one teacher who always used to get mad at me for things I didn’t even do. Like my homework! :-)</span><span style="background-color: white; border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">I had another teacher who was so mean she used to close her eyes every time she came in the classroom. She wanted to make her pupils disappear! :-)</span><span style="background-color: white; border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; border: 0px; font-family: calibri, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; font-stretch: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<div style="border: 0px; clear: both; font-family: "segoe ui", "segoe ui web", arial, verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<div lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; color: windowtext;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased;" /></span></div>
<div lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; color: windowtext;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Seriously, even if you had a great year, you are probably really looking forward to the summer and not having school for a while. When you are a kid, the school year seems really long, but believe me, the older you get, the faster time flies.</span><span style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span></div>
</div>
<div style="border: 0px; clear: both; font-family: "segoe ui", "segoe ui web", arial, verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<div lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; color: windowtext;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased;" /></span></div>
<div lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; color: windowtext;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">How old are you guys now? 12? </span><span style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span></div>
</div>
<div style="border: 0px; clear: both; font-family: "segoe ui", "segoe ui web", arial, verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<div lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; color: windowtext;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased;" /></span></div>
<div lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; color: windowtext;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="border: 0px; font: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Mr.<span style="border: 0px; font: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-position: left bottom; background-repeat: repeat-x; border-bottom-color: transparent; border-bottom-style: solid; border-width: 0px 0px 1px; font: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Kilcommins</span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">, can you remember very much about when you were 12? I can’t either. </span><span style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span></div>
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<div style="border: 0px; clear: both; font-family: "segoe ui", "segoe ui web", arial, verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<div lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; color: windowtext;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased;" /></span></div>
<div lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; color: windowtext;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Believe it or not guys, you are going to forget an awful lot of your life right now.</span><span style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span></div>
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<div style="border: 0px; clear: both; font-family: "segoe ui", "segoe ui web", arial, verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<div lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; color: windowtext;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased;" /></span></div>
<div lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; color: windowtext;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Life goes by, the days fill up, and all the little details of your life get lost... unless you do something special to help yourself remember. Your teachers are doing that for you right now by making this a special day for you. Events like this can help you in the future to remember the good things you did and the good people you were with.</span><span style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span></div>
</div>
<div style="border: 0px; clear: both; font-family: "segoe ui", "segoe ui web", arial, verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<div lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; color: windowtext;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased;" /></span></div>
<div lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; color: windowtext;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Keeping good memories alive takes a lot of work.</span><span style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span></div>
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<div style="border: 0px; clear: both; font-family: "segoe ui", "segoe ui web", arial, verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<div lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; color: windowtext;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased;" /></span></div>
<div lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; color: windowtext;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Strangely enough, it is easier to remember bad things.</span><span style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span></div>
</div>
<div style="border: 0px; clear: both; font-family: "segoe ui", "segoe ui web", arial, verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<div lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; color: windowtext;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased;" /></span></div>
<div lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; color: windowtext;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="border: 0px; font: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Remembering good things is a hard skill to learn, and creating special events are one of the ways we help ourselves.<span style="border: 0px; font: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span></span></span><span style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span></div>
</div>
<div style="border: 0px; clear: both; font-family: "segoe ui", "segoe ui web", arial, verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<div lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; color: windowtext;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased;" /></span></div>
<div lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; color: windowtext;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">I hope this is one of the lessons you will learn and carry with you: remembering all the good things and good people in your life doesn’t come naturally. It is a skill you have to work at.</span><span style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span></div>
</div>
<div style="border: 0px; clear: both; font-family: "segoe ui", "segoe ui web", arial, verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<div lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; color: windowtext;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased;" /></span></div>
<div lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; color: windowtext;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Today is also a special way for me to remember good things, to remember the wonderful people at this school, and the happy times my son had here.</span><span style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span></div>
</div>
<div style="border: 0px; clear: both; font-family: "segoe ui", "segoe ui web", arial, verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<div lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; color: windowtext;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased;" /></span></div>
<div lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; color: windowtext;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">I want to tell you why this school is important to me.</span><span style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span></div>
</div>
<div style="border: 0px; clear: both; font-family: "segoe ui", "segoe ui web", arial, verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<div lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; color: windowtext;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased;" /></span></div>
<div lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; color: windowtext;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="border: 0px; font: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">First of all, as you can probably tell, I’m not from Ireland. I’m from Canada. Parents – always guess Canada. Americans won’t be offended!<span style="border: 0px; font: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span></span></span><span style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span></div>
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<div style="border: 0px; clear: both; font-family: "segoe ui", "segoe ui web", arial, verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<div lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; color: windowtext;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased;" /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="border: 0px; font: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Thomas’ father is from Bulgaria. Thomas was born in the United States, but lived in Ireland from the age of 2. We were a very international family, like many of the families here at St.<span style="border: 0px; font: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span></span><span style="background-position: left bottom; background-repeat: repeat-x; border-bottom-color: transparent; border-bottom-style: solid; border-width: 0px 0px 1px; font: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Conleth’s</span><span style="border: 0px; font: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">.</span></span><span style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span></div>
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<div style="border: 0px; clear: both; font-family: "segoe ui", "segoe ui web", arial, verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<div lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; color: windowtext;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased;" /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="border: 0px; font: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">We chose St.<span style="border: 0px; font: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-position: left bottom; background-repeat: repeat-x; border-bottom-color: transparent; border-bottom-style: solid; border-width: 0px 0px 1px; font: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Conleth’s</span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="border: 0px; font: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="border: 0px; font: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span>because of the close friendships that we made with other families here, especially the<span style="border: 0px; font: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-position: left bottom; background-repeat: repeat-x; border-bottom-color: transparent; border-bottom-style: solid; border-width: 0px 0px 1px; font: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Herbots</span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="border: 0px; font: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span>family that you all know. We chose it because it was a small, family-run school, where it was easy to get to know people, and where Miss Sheppard made us feel welcome right from day one.</span><span style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span></div>
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<div style="border: 0px; clear: both; font-family: "segoe ui", "segoe ui web", arial, verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<div lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; color: windowtext;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased;" /></span></div>
<div lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; color: windowtext;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">I hope you all got that feeling from being in Junior School here. The feeling that you are part of a family.</span><span style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span></div>
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<div style="border: 0px; clear: both; font-family: "segoe ui", "segoe ui web", arial, verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<div lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; color: windowtext;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased;" /></span></div>
<div lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; color: windowtext;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Of course, families have their issues. Do any of you have little brothers or sisters? You know how annoying families can be.</span><span style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span></div>
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<div style="border: 0px; clear: both; font-family: "segoe ui", "segoe ui web", arial, verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<div lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; color: windowtext;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased;" /></span></div>
<div lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; color: windowtext;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">But the point is that we are all connected, and if we behave well with each other, we will always have each other to support us when we need it, and be happy when we are happy.</span><span style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span></div>
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<div style="border: 0px; clear: both; font-family: "segoe ui", "segoe ui web", arial, verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<div lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; color: windowtext;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased;" /></span></div>
<div lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; color: windowtext;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">I know that is the kind of atmosphere your parents and teachers here want to create.</span><span style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span></div>
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<div style="border: 0px; clear: both; font-family: "segoe ui", "segoe ui web", arial, verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<div lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; color: windowtext;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased;" /></span></div>
<div lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; color: windowtext;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">The lessons you learn here in Junior School you will carry with you for life. Great things have small beginnings. That is the phrase engraved into the award we are presenting today.</span><span style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span></div>
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<div style="border: 0px; clear: both; font-family: "segoe ui", "segoe ui web", arial, verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<div lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; color: windowtext;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased;" /></span></div>
<div lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; color: windowtext;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="border: 0px; font: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Try and remember this day for a long time. Remember the good things, the happy times, the good people who care about you.<span style="border: 0px; font: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span></span></span><span style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span></div>
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<div style="border: 0px; clear: both; font-family: "segoe ui", "segoe ui web", arial, verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<div lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; color: windowtext;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased;" /></span></div>
<div lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; color: windowtext;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Learn how to remember good things.</span><span style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span></div>
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<div style="border: 0px; clear: both; font-family: "segoe ui", "segoe ui web", arial, verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<div lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; color: windowtext;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased;" /></span></div>
<div lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; color: windowtext;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Talk to each other. Stay connected. Help each other.</span><span style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span></div>
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<div style="border: 0px; clear: both; font-family: "segoe ui", "segoe ui web", arial, verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<div lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; color: windowtext;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased;" /></span></div>
<div lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; color: windowtext;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="border: 0px; font: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">I want to thank Miss Sheppard, Mrs. McMahon, Miss Dillon, Miss McGuinness, Miss Redmond, Mr. McGuire and especially Mr.<span style="border: 0px; font: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-position: left bottom; background-repeat: repeat-x; border-bottom-color: transparent; border-bottom-style: solid; border-width: 0px 0px 1px; font: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Kilcommins</span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="border: 0px; font: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="border: 0px; font: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span>for<span style="border: 0px; font: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-position: left bottom; background-repeat: repeat-x; border-bottom-color: transparent; border-bottom-style: solid; border-width: 0px 0px 1px; font: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">organising</span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="border: 0px; font: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span>this event and for everything they have done to keep my Thomas’ memory alive. Thomas had many happy moments here thanks to you, and I am sincerely grateful for that.</span><span style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span></div>
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<div style="border: 0px; clear: both; font-family: "segoe ui", "segoe ui web", arial, verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<div lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; color: windowtext;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased;" /></span></div>
<div lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; color: windowtext;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">A special shout-out to Oisin, Scott’s brother, for creating this award, and for being such a great friend to Thomas and to me.</span><span style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span></div>
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<div lang="EN-US" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; color: windowtext;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="border: 0px; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19.425px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased;" /></span></div>
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30 May 2019</div>
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Mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03256998823947399911noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6764620.post-88718305756457892122019-03-07T16:00:00.000-08:002019-03-08T02:17:29.888-08:00"Islands" e-book now available on Amazon!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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By the time I finished "Isole" (the Italian version of "Islands"), I had been moved to tears by what my friend Gabriella had written. And it was not just that the final story in the book was her personal story, but that she was so brave and so connected with that story that she could share it in this way. </div>
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Connectedness is what this book is all about, although it starts from a point of disconnectedness - the psychological "islands" that we all retreat to when something bad happens. It's such a slippery slope that carries us off in our heads. When something terrible happens, we just want to disappear. </div>
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Gabriella's wisdom is that these terrible feelings are common to everyone. If we have the courage to tell our stories, we will find that the world is full of caring and empathetic people to relate to: we may feel like islands, but we are islands in a vast archipelago. </div>
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For this reason I thought it was important to share this little book with as many people as possible. <span style="font-size: 12pt;">I have translated it to English by staying as true as possible to Gabriella's voice and style. These are her words and not mine.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>As of today, International Women's Day 2019, </i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>the book is available for download on Amazon! </i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>click on this link- <a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B07PKTH96T/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1551998772&sr=8-1&keywords=gabriella+vittoria+romano" style="font-family: times;" target="_blank">Islands e-book on Amazon</a></i></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGHwcOjAY_juzWC3B_e_5l69WNHdgMZbgbRVf66zsZsq3HFfzZ3Zaq39RTl4VWIcb0VCPQcf7gpn6ouFkeyjwcOtZmxB1rnvG8VS7gqjaSEZqmSr9xwPWHcEMU3d_AWCHomXDD6Q/s1600/Four+Elements+-+Graphite+and+Prismacolour.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: justify;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1016" data-original-width="727" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGHwcOjAY_juzWC3B_e_5l69WNHdgMZbgbRVf66zsZsq3HFfzZ3Zaq39RTl4VWIcb0VCPQcf7gpn6ouFkeyjwcOtZmxB1rnvG8VS7gqjaSEZqmSr9xwPWHcEMU3d_AWCHomXDD6Q/s400/Four+Elements+-+Graphite+and+Prismacolour.png" width="285" /></a>At the same time, Gabriella encouraged me to add my own expression to our collaboration. I had expressed my wish to return to my art, which I had neglected for many years, and Gabriella cheered me on.</div>
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Her stories each evoke an element of nature (earth, air, fire, water), and I loved this idea of re-connecting with the concrete world from that point of emotional isolation. I myself had learned through mindfulness techniques, that focusing on physical sensations is an effective way to deal with intensely unpleasant emotions. I thought the four elements illustrated this notion beautifully, and I wanted to explore the concept in my drawings. I created four allegorical portraits especially to accompany the English version of Gabriella's book. </div>
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<i><span style="color: #741b47; font-size: x-small;">(High-resolution fine art prints size A3 are available to order by sending me a direct message or leaving a comment below.)</span></i></div>
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I am extremely pleased to help Gabriella spread her message to new readers through the English language.<br />
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She is right: we are all more connected than we realise.</div>
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Follow this link to purchase your copy: <a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B07PKTH96T/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1551998772&sr=8-1&keywords=gabriella+vittoria+romano" target="_blank">Islands e-book on Amazon</a></div>
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Mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03256998823947399911noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6764620.post-15785306135846287112019-03-07T15:37:00.000-08:002019-03-07T15:51:07.942-08:00"Isole" versione inglese disponibile su Amazon!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Quando terminai "Isole", ero commossa fino alle lacrime da ciò che aveva scritto la mia amica Gabriella. E non era solo che la storia finale del libro fosse la sua storia personale, ma che fosse così coraggiosa e così connessa con quella storia da poterla condividere in questo modo.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">La connessione è ciò di cui tratta questo libro, anche se parte da un punto di sconnessione - le "isole" psicologiche nelle quali tutti ci ritiriamo quando succede qualcosa di doloroso. È un pendio così scivoloso che ci porta nelle nostre teste. Quando succede qualcosa di terribile, vogliamo solo scomparire.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">La saggezza di Gabriella è che questi sentimenti sono comuni a tutti. Se avremo il coraggio di raccontare le nostre storie, scopriremo che il mondo è pieno di persone premurose ed empatiche con cui confrontarsi: potremmo sentirci isole, ma siamo isole in un vasto arcipelago. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Per questo motivo ho pensato che fosse importante condividere questo piccolo libro con quante più persone possibile. </span><span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">L'ho tradotto in inglese rimanendo il più fedele possibile alla voce e allo stile di Gabriella. Queste sono le sue parole e non le mie. </span></div>
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<i style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Cliccate qui per acquistare su Amazon:</i></div>
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<i style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><b><a href="https://www.amazon.it/dp/B07PKTH96T/ref=sr_1_2?s=kitchen&ie=UTF8&qid=1552000855&sr=8-2&keywords=gabriella+vittoria+romano" target="_blank">"Islands" by Gabriella Vittoria Romano</a></b></i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcevIOPXC0i6P4GhiXeNCqJtJNRjG2uI3zg51tE7MzBpo-QdywLFkzA0XyOiFp8MEWHgOKonkZd2Sh0yGQuXquGYTgGUL7Mqs_MhL10XdZ-nGj9LDN4NjL4ML8U7a21u-gq02GEg/s1600/Four+Elements+-+Graphite+and+Prismacolour.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1016" data-original-width="727" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcevIOPXC0i6P4GhiXeNCqJtJNRjG2uI3zg51tE7MzBpo-QdywLFkzA0XyOiFp8MEWHgOKonkZd2Sh0yGQuXquGYTgGUL7Mqs_MhL10XdZ-nGj9LDN4NjL4ML8U7a21u-gq02GEg/s400/Four+Elements+-+Graphite+and+Prismacolour.png" width="285" /></a><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Allo stesso tempo, la mia amica Gabriella mi ha incoraggiata ad aggiungere la mia espressione alla nostra collaborazione. Avevo espresso il desiderio di tornare alla mia arte, il disegno, che avevo trascurato per molti anni, e Gabriella mi ha rallegrato.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcevIOPXC0i6P4GhiXeNCqJtJNRjG2uI3zg51tE7MzBpo-QdywLFkzA0XyOiFp8MEWHgOKonkZd2Sh0yGQuXquGYTgGUL7Mqs_MhL10XdZ-nGj9LDN4NjL4ML8U7a21u-gq02GEg/s1600/Four+Elements+-+Graphite+and+Prismacolour.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></a><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="text-align: justify;">Le sue storie evocano ciascuna un elemento della natura (terra, aria, fuoco, acqua) e ho adorato l'idea di riconnettersi con il mondo concreto da quel punto di isolamento emotivo. Avevo imparato me stessa attraverso le tecniche di consapevolezza, che concentrarsi sui miei sensi fisici è un modo efficace per affrontare emozioni intensamente spiacevoli. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Ho pensato che i quattro elementi illustrassero magnificamente questo concetto che volevo esplorare nei miei disegni. Ho creato i ritratti allegorici appositamente per accompagnare la versione inglese del libro di Gabriella.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i>(Questi disegni sono disponibili come poster grandezza A3 di alta qualita' - le persone interessate possono lasciare un commento o mandarmi un messaggio!)</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Sono estremamente lieta di aiutare Gabriella a diffondere il suo messaggio a nuovi lettori attraverso la lingua inglese. Ha ragione: siamo tutti più connessi di quanto pensiamo.</span></div>
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<a href="https://www.amazon.it/dp/B07PKTH96T/ref=sr_1_2?s=kitchen&ie=UTF8&qid=1552000855&sr=8-2&keywords=gabriella+vittoria+romano" target="_blank"><b>Acquistare "Islands" (e-book inglese) su Amazon</b></a></div>
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Mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03256998823947399911noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6764620.post-63091987280798925812018-08-22T07:57:00.001-07:002018-08-22T07:57:14.843-07:00A Grand Time <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Some ghosts in Ireland speak with Newfoundland accents. This is the story of how they got there.<br />
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Click here: <a href="http://nqonline.ca/article/a-grand-time-nl-music-at-the-irish-traditional-music-archive-in-dublin/" target="_blank"><b><span style="color: red;">A Grand Time</span></b></a>, to read my piece in The Newfoundland Quarterly Online in August 2018.<br />
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Mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03256998823947399911noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6764620.post-80562544177719019622018-06-01T01:55:00.000-07:002018-06-01T07:37:13.723-07:00Thomas Stamp Tzvetkov Memorial Award for School Spirit<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Yesterday evening 24 sweet and gangly 12 year-old boys graduated from Junior School at St. Conleth's College here in Dublin, and one of them received the very first merit award in our Thomas' memory. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #454545; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The award has been ten years in the making for many reasons, including the painful nature of having to consider it in the first place. It took some crafting, because our boy could not be remembered for academic or athletic excellence, but for the impact his short life had on his teachers and friends. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">As a mother, I was torn between two conflicting impulses: on the one hand, there is a kind of horror that one's child will disappear from memory. On the other hand, there is a strong protective reflex to shield all children from the notion that a boy just like one of them could suffer so much and die so young. </span></div>
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It was raw and upsetting, and not easily married with the boisterous glee of the last day of school. <span style="text-align: left;">What would be the best way to introduce Thomas to such a group on such a day?</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxmK4y1MWhCN0cRU_z3fLWomCH1Vm1CfBi86QBUbfTWyQS5Dw0cq_xgXJ0cplumPEpmH4je0-Rel5EPRPdgLqbHPwAP1JVfWQ5ROYsvPN8SOrrzZ_PpiNXKlHZsSLeVsAHcqGFCA/s1600/IMG_1267.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1408" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxmK4y1MWhCN0cRU_z3fLWomCH1Vm1CfBi86QBUbfTWyQS5Dw0cq_xgXJ0cplumPEpmH4je0-Rel5EPRPdgLqbHPwAP1JVfWQ5ROYsvPN8SOrrzZ_PpiNXKlHZsSLeVsAHcqGFCA/s320/IMG_1267.jpg" width="281" /></a><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Help came from the closest of friends. </span></div>
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<span style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">A year ago, one of Thomas' best friends was leaving school as 18 year-old class captain. As the last cohort of his friends left St. Conleth's forever, Oisin wanted to ensure that somehow Thomas' name would live on there. He thought there could be an award associated with his friend's great playfulness and imagination. He took the initiative to present his idea to me over a hot chocolate one afternoon, and won me over. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I owe a huge thanks to Mr. Tony Kilcommins (Junior School Principal and Thomas' last teacher), Ms. Dolores Kelly (Head of Preparatory School and Thomas' first teacher) and to school C.E.O. Ms. Ann Sheppard for the decision to follow through on Oisin's suggestion. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Ten years after his passing, sitting down with the three of them to approach this dreaded topic was comfortable and easy, and I discovered that gratitude is stronger than fear.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">St. Conleth's is a private school with a unique family history. Its statement of values and mission led easily to connections between Thomas' memory and the joy of childhood learning. I agreed to the task of fine-tuning the award design, and we moved on from there.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Ms. Sheppard offered me the opportunity to make a drawing to be etched into the award crafted by Dublin Crystal. With the idea that Junior School is like a kind of tree nursery where children grow the roots on which their adult lives will prosper, I chose the symbol of a pine cone and the motto "Great things have small beginnings". The trophy will remain in the school on a plinth with the names of future recipients, and each winner will take home a small crystal disc.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The first boy to win the award is from an Argentinian family who have been in Dublin only two years. Emilio was thrilled. He has made a huge impression on everyone by how hard he has worked to master English and do well in school. For a young boy to integrate into such a foreign environment cannot be easy, but he has managed to inspire classmates and teachers with his determination, openness and good humour. </span><br />
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I am really very thankful, honoured and pleased with everything that everyone has done to make this possible. To top it all off, my beloved father (aged 84 years young) made the trans-Atlantic journey to share it with me.<br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; text-align: justify;">I was invited to say a few words (copy below) before presenting the award following the boys's own variety show full of hilarious skits, uplifting music and mysterious card tricks. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; text-align: justify;">The perfect coda to the evening was provided by the same precious friend who started it all. Oisin greeted everyone at the front door and treated us with freshly-toasted, sweet Belgian waffles, with photos of dear Thomas looking on...</span><br />
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<b><i>Presentation of the Thomas Stamp Tzvetkov Junior School Spirit Award (draft of my remarks)</i></b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtoqXlFoqi-eQhjjtXEqFy0suF2PSvWN68fYrVgQCI2W7DtXJiBdX0fFplVvoekUZKmvOOhIm8TBVKa7tVWhp_AkvhZkHzMtXuEQggwIu4cwI-s_VzFff3vAIIC0W5uXiCOELslw/s1600/IMG_1258.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="background-color: white;"><i><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="884" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtoqXlFoqi-eQhjjtXEqFy0suF2PSvWN68fYrVgQCI2W7DtXJiBdX0fFplVvoekUZKmvOOhIm8TBVKa7tVWhp_AkvhZkHzMtXuEQggwIu4cwI-s_VzFff3vAIIC0W5uXiCOELslw/s320/IMG_1258.jpg" width="176" /></i></span></a><span style="background-color: white;"><i>My father and I are deeply grateful for the opportunity to remember and celebrate our precious little boy Thomas with you this evening.</i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><i>Thomas entered St. Conleth’s with his friend Oisin H., who as class captain last year proposed this award. Oisin’s three brothers also attend this school and many of you may know them. They are like family to me.</i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><i>As this is our first time presenting this award, please indulge me as I say a special thank you to all the teachers who taught Thomas. Miss Dolores Kelly, Miss Richeal Dillon, Miss Lesley McGuinness, and Mr. Tony Kilcommins, as well as Niamh Redmond who taught him at our home, and his PE teacher Gavin McGuire who were all patient and understanding of his limitations. </i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><i>Thomas and I both grew to be very fond of you and you helped make his short life better. Of course all of this cooperation is made possible under the kindness, support and leadership of Ms. Ann Sheppard and Mrs. Dolores McMahon. Thank you everyone.</i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><i>For those of you who did not know him, I will say a little word about Thomas. I am from Canada, his father was from Bulgaria and he was born in the United States. We came here when he was 2 years old, so Dublin was the only home town he really knew. He had no brothers or sisters or cousins at the time, so the friendships made in school were the closest thing to family for him in this country.</i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><i>When it came time to choose a school for him to attend, we really liked St. Conleth’s because of the strong family atmosphere here. The history of the family behind this school appealed to us, and we came here with a couple of other boys, like the Herbots family we had met in creche.</i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><i>One day when he was 6 years old, life changed suddenly for Thomas and those friendships at school became more important than ever.</i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><i>Thomas became very sick with an illness that lasted several years. He spent a lot of time in hospital. By a very strange and sad coincidence, another boy in his class here was also very ill and the two boys were often on the same ward at Crumlin hospital at the same time. The incredible support of that boy’s family and the St. Conleth’s staff will never be forgotten.</i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><i>Thomas had a great sense of humour and was outgoing and full of fun. He was the kind of kid who would walk over to a child who was by himself in the playground and say, “Hi, my name is Thomas. You wanna play?” One of my aunts called him Mr. Friendly. He was not exactly shy. One day a friend of ours arranged a tour of RTE studios for him, and although his head was completely bald - he had lost all his hair in chemotherapy - he was keen to go on camera with the host of The Den. He told a joke on camera with so much charisma that Dustin the Turkey said Pat Kenny should watch out for his job.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></i></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-converted-space" style="background-color: white;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-converted-space" style="background-color: white;"><i>(You guys probably know this joke. It goes, "Why did the skeleton NOT go to the dance...?" "Because he had noBODY to go with. It's a classic.)</i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><i>He was funny and playful and loved manga and all kinds of games. Most importantly, he loved his family and his friends, and he made it easy for us to spend time together and have fun, even in the most difficult circumstances. </i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><i>He came to school whenever he could, tried his best to participate in school events and sports, did his homework, and played with his schoolmates. He made his friends laugh and his teachers smile. He always tried to keep up with his work and friends at St. Conleth’s, even from home or hospital.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><i>The other boy from his class got better, but Thomas didn’t. He was not quite ten years old.</i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><i>So you see, in that short little life, how big a role school played for us. For the teachers and staff, and a couple of the boys who still remember him, the loss of someone so young is a reminder of how every minute counts.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Sometimes we might think that Junior School is just a short phase and doesn’t count very much, but the truth is that every moment in life counts very much.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><i>I know that all the teachers here are very aware of how important these years are, and I know that your parents want as much as possible for these years not only to prepare you for your life as an adult, but also to be enjoyed for what they are -- a huge and defining part of your childhood.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><i>I know that the staff of St. Conleth’s are very proud to have an important role in your lives, and want your time together to be the best it can be. When we remember Thomas, and other children who did not live long enough to graduate, we remember that your time in this school is precious.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><i>We all agreed that a good way to honour Thomas’ short life would be to encourage children in Junior School to remember that you don’t have to be a grown-up to have a big effect on the people around you. By doing your best, helping each other and making the school the best in can be, you are showing the true spirit of this very special family home and school. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><i>We have chosen a small trophy that symbolises this idea. You will see there is a blue glass ball like a drop of water inside a cone shape. I was offered the chance to draw a picture to be etched onto it and I made a drawing of a pine cone, which looks like it’s about to soak up the water and grow into a big tree. This is what I personally would like Junior School students to think about. </i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><i>From something very small, something very big can grow.</i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><i>Dublin, 31 May 2018</i></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-converted-space" style="background-color: white;"><i> </i></span></div>
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Mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03256998823947399911noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6764620.post-82731889966667368162018-03-04T13:45:00.002-08:002018-03-06T14:51:23.681-08:00Ten Year Memorial for Thomas<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rose petals and bouquets for Thomas</td></tr>
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<i><span style="background-color: white; color: #351c75; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">I am immensely grateful to everyone who came to share in a small event to remember Thomas on his tenth anniversary. The adverse weather, public transit problems, winter flu and great distances kept family and many friends from joining us, and it is with them in mind that I am sharing this copy of my remarks and links for music. </span></i></div>
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<i><span style="background-color: white; color: #351c75; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="background-color: white; color: #351c75; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Together we scattered handfuls of pink rose petals while Zena Donnelly performed an angelic rendition of "You Raise Me Up". Thank you to everyone near and far who shared the hugs, tears, smiles and fond memories and supported me through this sad milestone.</span></i></div>
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<span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW78751346" lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif , serif , "emojifont"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">3 March 2018</span><span class="x_EOP x_SCXW78751346" style="font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif , serif , "emojifont"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"> </span></div>
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<span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW78751346" lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif , serif , "emojifont"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">How unusual to be standing in the snow in Dublin. White is the </span><span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW78751346" lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif , serif , "emojifont"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">colour</span><span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW78751346" lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif , serif , "emojifont"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"> of innocence and childhood, and (in some places) the </span><span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW78751346" lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif , serif , "emojifont"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">colour</span><span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW78751346" lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif , serif , "emojifont"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"> of mourning, so perhaps we can say the weather has gifted us with a perfect backdrop for this little gathering.</span></div>
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<div class="x_Paragraph x_SCXW78751346" lang="EN-US" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; word-wrap: break-word;">
<span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW78751346" lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif , serif , "emojifont"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">When I was in my twenties I attended the funeral of a </span><span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW78751346" lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif , serif , "emojifont"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">four year-old</span><span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW78751346" lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif , serif , "emojifont"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"> boy. It was one of the most striking memories of my life. I watched the child’s mother collapse in tears, and it made me feel so inadequate to have no words, nothing to say to comfort her.</span><span class="x_EOP x_SCXW78751346" style="font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif , serif , "emojifont"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"> </span></div>
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<span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW78751346" lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif , serif , "emojifont"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><br /></span></div>
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<span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW78751346" lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif , serif , "emojifont"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">I felt the need to DO something, but all I could come up with was to go home and blast </span><span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW78751346" lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif , serif , "emojifont"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">some Mozart on my stereo. I found myself playing the aria “Alleluia”* over and over again as loud as possible. That aria is so joyful, and to me was an expression of gratitude for life itself, no matter how short. Perhaps even <i>because</i> it is so short. *link:</span><span class="x_EOP x_SCXW78751346" style="font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif , serif , "emojifont"; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span style="color: rgba(0 , 0 , 0 , 0); font-size: x-small;"> </span><span style="color: #666666;"><i>(</i><i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8RLCJ7U2fdU" target="_blank">Listen to the Berliner Philharmoniker with Christine Schäfer perform Mozart's 'Alleluia' from "Exsultate, jubilate"</a> )</i></span></span></div>
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<span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW78751346" lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif , serif , "emojifont"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">Fast forward a couple of </span><span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW78751346" lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif , serif , "emojifont"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">decades and </span><span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW78751346" lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif , serif , "emojifont"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">I was </span><span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW78751346" lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif , serif , "emojifont"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">the collapsed mother, and probably many of you felt just as helpless when </span><span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW78751346" lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif , serif , "emojifont"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">you looked on at me. Maybe you wanted to know what to say or how to help</span><span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW78751346" lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif , serif , "emojifont"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">. Some people in my life were so afraid of saying the wrong thing that they stayed away altogether. But they needn't have worried.</span><span class="x_EOP x_SCXW78751346" style="font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif , serif , "emojifont"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"> </span></div>
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<span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW78751346" lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif , serif , "emojifont"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="x_Paragraph x_SCXW78751346" lang="EN-US" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; word-wrap: break-word;">
<span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW78751346" lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif , serif , "emojifont"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">I can tell you with confidence that there *are* no words to say. In fact, words are the last thing a </span><span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW78751346" lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif , serif , "emojifont"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">grief stricken</span><span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW78751346" lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif , serif , "emojifont"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"> parent wants from anybody. I can tell you from experience that nothing comforting starts with the words “at least”.</span><span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW78751346" lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif , serif , "emojifont"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"> </span><span class="x_EOP x_SCXW78751346" style="font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif , serif , "emojifont"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"> </span></div>
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<div class="x_OutlineElement x_Ltr x_SCXW78751346" style="background-color: white; clear: both; color: #17365d; font-family: Calibri, Helvetica, sans-serif, serif, EmojiFont; font-size: 16px; margin: 0px; overflow: visible; padding: 0px;">
<div class="x_Paragraph x_SCXW78751346" lang="EN-US" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; word-wrap: break-word;">
<span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW78751346" lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif , serif , "emojifont"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="x_Paragraph x_SCXW78751346" lang="EN-US" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; word-wrap: break-word;">
<span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW78751346" lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif , serif , "emojifont"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">Perhaps grief is first and foremost about suffering the <i>absence</i> of someone, and perhaps the balm for the pain of absence is the assurance of<i> presence</i>… about staying near, about staying connected, and just being there.</span><span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW78751346" lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif , serif , "emojifont"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"> </span><span class="x_EOP x_SCXW78751346" style="font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif , serif , "emojifont"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"> </span></div>
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<div class="x_OutlineElement x_Ltr x_SCXW78751346" style="background-color: white; clear: both; color: #17365d; font-family: Calibri, Helvetica, sans-serif, serif, EmojiFont; font-size: 16px; margin: 0px; overflow: visible; padding: 0px;">
<div class="x_Paragraph x_SCXW78751346" lang="EN-US" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; word-wrap: break-word;">
<span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW78751346" lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif , serif , "emojifont"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="x_Paragraph x_SCXW78751346" lang="EN-US" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; word-wrap: break-word;">
<span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW78751346" lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif , serif , "emojifont"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">Grief is also about the shock of change. When you lose someone central in your life, it necessitates a lot of other adaptations, and you can feel completely disconnected from your life and identity. In my case, I felt unable to return to my country or my career. And I think the balm for this <i>instability</i> is <i>stability</i>. The <i>continued presence</i> of people from the life before loss, to the life after loss.</span><span class="x_EOP x_SCXW78751346" style="font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif , serif , "emojifont"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"> </span></div>
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<div class="x_OutlineElement x_Ltr x_SCXW78751346" style="background-color: white; clear: both; color: #17365d; font-family: Calibri, Helvetica, sans-serif, serif, EmojiFont; font-size: 16px; margin: 0px; overflow: visible; padding: 0px;">
<div class="x_Paragraph x_SCXW78751346" lang="EN-US" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; word-wrap: break-word;">
<span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW78751346" lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif , serif , "emojifont"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="x_Paragraph x_SCXW78751346" lang="EN-US" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; word-wrap: break-word;">
<span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW78751346" lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif , serif , "emojifont"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">So...</span><span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW78751346" lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif , serif , "emojifont"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"> no. There is nothing we can say. There is only what we can do. And that is to be present, and to celebrate life. I can recommend Mozart for </span><span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW78751346" lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif , serif , "emojifont"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">the soundtrack.</span><span class="x_EOP x_SCXW78751346" style="font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif , serif , "emojifont"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"> </span></div>
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<div class="x_OutlineElement x_Ltr x_SCXW78751346" style="background-color: white; clear: both; color: #17365d; font-family: Calibri, Helvetica, sans-serif, serif, EmojiFont; font-size: 16px; margin: 0px; overflow: visible; padding: 0px;">
<div class="x_Paragraph x_SCXW78751346" lang="EN-US" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; word-wrap: break-word;">
<span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW78751346" lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif , serif , "emojifont"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="x_Paragraph x_SCXW78751346" lang="EN-US" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; word-wrap: break-word;">
<span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW78751346" lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif , serif , "emojifont"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">I want to say a sincere thank you to everyone here</span><span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW78751346" lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif , serif , "emojifont"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"> </span><span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW78751346" lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif , serif , "emojifont"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">for your presence today, and for your continued presence in my life. Thank you for sharing your memories of Thomas with me. Thank you for sharing your time with me. Thank you for being brave enough to be here without thinking you know what you have to say.</span><span class="x_EOP x_SCXW78751346" style="font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif , serif , "emojifont"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"> </span></div>
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<div class="x_OutlineElement x_Ltr x_SCXW78751346" style="background-color: white; clear: both; color: #17365d; font-family: Calibri, Helvetica, sans-serif, serif, EmojiFont; font-size: 16px; margin: 0px; overflow: visible; padding: 0px;">
<div class="x_Paragraph x_SCXW78751346" lang="EN-US" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; word-wrap: break-word;">
<span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW78751346" lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif , serif , "emojifont"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="x_Paragraph x_SCXW78751346" lang="EN-US" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; word-wrap: break-word;">
<span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW78751346" lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif , serif , "emojifont"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">My friends have helped me carry on, stopped me from sliding down the slippery slope of nihilism.</span><span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW78751346" lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif , serif , "emojifont"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"> </span><span class="x_EOP x_SCXW78751346" style="font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif , serif , "emojifont"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"> </span></div>
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<div class="x_OutlineElement x_Ltr x_SCXW78751346" style="background-color: white; clear: both; color: #17365d; font-family: Calibri, Helvetica, sans-serif, serif, EmojiFont; font-size: 16px; margin: 0px; overflow: visible; padding: 0px;">
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<span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW78751346" lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif , serif , "emojifont"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="x_Paragraph x_SCXW78751346" lang="EN-US" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; word-wrap: break-word;">
<span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW78751346" lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif , serif , "emojifont"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span class="x_NormalTextRun x_SCXW78751346" style="background-color: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">A lot of parents who lose a child want to stop living, just follow that <span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW233172256" lang="EN-US" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span class="x_NormalTextRun x_SCXW233172256" style="background-color: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">child wherever they are. The maternal instinct for me was just that strong. Stronger than my own will to survive. But with time, and thanks to loved ones and friends, I have regained the perspective that our lives are really incredibly short. </span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="x_Paragraph x_SCXW78751346" lang="EN-US" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; word-wrap: break-word;">
<span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW78751346" lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif , serif , "emojifont"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="x_Paragraph x_SCXW78751346" lang="EN-US" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; word-wrap: break-word;">
<span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW78751346" lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif , serif , "emojifont"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span class="x_NormalTextRun x_SCXW78751346" style="background-color: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW233172256" lang="EN-US" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span class="x_NormalTextRun x_SCXW233172256" style="background-color: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">What is a decade or a century in the span of time? Death is going to come anyway. Whatever we have now is so precious, and so miraculous and unlikely. Every life is worth fighting for.</span></span><span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW233172256" lang="EN-US" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span class="x_NormalTextRun x_SCXW233172256" style="background-color: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"> </span></span><span class="x_EOP x_SCXW233172256" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"> </span></span></span></div>
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<div class="x_Paragraph x_SCXW233172256" lang="EN-US" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; word-wrap: break-word;">
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</div>
<div class="x_OutlineElement x_Ltr x_SCXW233172256" style="clear: both; margin: 0px; overflow: visible; padding: 0px;">
<div class="x_Paragraph x_SCXW233172256" lang="EN-US" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; word-wrap: break-word;">
<span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW233172256" lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif , serif , "emojifont"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">Throughout his illness, Thomas had some awful moments. Neuroblastoma i</span><span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW136996107" lang="EN-US" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">s first and foremost extremely painful. But spending so much time together, we gave each other a lot of love, and those were blissful and happy moments too. Grief and joy really can coexist. One is sometimes even the measure of the other.</span></div>
<div class="x_Paragraph x_SCXW233172256" lang="EN-US" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; word-wrap: break-word;">
<span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW136996107" lang="EN-US" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><br /></span></div>
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<div class="x_OutlineElement x_Ltr x_SCXW136996107" style="clear: both; margin: 0px; overflow: visible; padding: 0px;">
<div class="x_Paragraph x_SCXW136996107" lang="EN-US" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; word-wrap: break-word;">
<span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW136996107" lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif , serif , "emojifont"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">I remember one day we were playing with a robot toy I had built for him. I made the robot say he didn’t have feelings, that feelings were irrational and a waste of time, that they make you suffer. Thomas told the robot that some feelings are bad, but some feelings are really good too. He said, the bad feelings go away after a while, and the good ones are worth it. I’ll never forget that.</span><span class="x_EOP x_SCXW136996107" style="font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif , serif , "emojifont"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"> </span></div>
<div class="x_Paragraph x_SCXW136996107" lang="EN-US" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; word-wrap: break-word;">
<span class="x_EOP x_SCXW136996107" style="font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif , serif , "emojifont"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><br /></span></div>
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<div class="x_OutlineElement x_Ltr x_SCXW136996107" style="clear: both; margin: 0px; overflow: visible; padding: 0px;">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe406d3H_cSkxj3Q0ja-OC0zraPAcFQ6acbO4thWz0CZ_22CnI3eTsiitYfzRTUKULFPFTbVjSgEaNYOugUZkqE0hD99OejnnbHYz5hf52Y-Sm1MwHtXxVAAl3419a2DlXIMSlQA/s1600/Thomas+Middle+Cove.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="767" data-original-width="621" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe406d3H_cSkxj3Q0ja-OC0zraPAcFQ6acbO4thWz0CZ_22CnI3eTsiitYfzRTUKULFPFTbVjSgEaNYOugUZkqE0hD99OejnnbHYz5hf52Y-Sm1MwHtXxVAAl3419a2DlXIMSlQA/s320/Thomas+Middle+Cove.jpg" width="257" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Thomas 12/5/98 - 3/3/2008</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="x_Paragraph x_SCXW136996107" lang="EN-US" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; word-wrap: break-word;">
<span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW136996107" lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif , serif , "emojifont"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">I hope by remembering Thomas today and how quickly ten years fly by, we can go away more grateful for what we have, and a little more desirous of how to be better people, </span><span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW136996107" lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif , serif , "emojifont"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">how to live </span><span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW38191597" lang="EN-US" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">better lives in the short time that we have.</span><span class="x_EOP x_SCXW38191597" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"> </span></div>
<div class="x_Paragraph x_SCXW136996107" lang="EN-US" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; word-wrap: break-word;">
<span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW38191597" lang="EN-US" style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif , serif , "emojifont"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="x_Paragraph x_SCXW136996107" lang="EN-US" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; word-wrap: break-word;">
<span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW38191597" lang="EN-US" style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif , serif , "emojifont"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">I’ve chosen some excerpts from a psalm that seems very apt for the occasion.</span><span class="x_EOP x_SCXW38191597" style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif , serif , "emojifont"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"> My friend Anthony will read it for us.</span></div>
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<span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW38191597" lang="EN-US" style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif , serif , "emojifont"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><br /></span></div>
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<span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW38191597" lang="EN-US" style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif , serif , "emojifont"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">=====</span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif , serif , "emojifont"; font-size: 11pt;"> </span></div>
<div class="x_Paragraph x_SCXW136996107" lang="EN-US" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; word-wrap: break-word;">
<span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW38191597" lang="EN-US" style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif , serif , "emojifont"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">Psalm 90</span><span class="x_EOP x_SCXW38191597" style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif , serif , "emojifont"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"> </span><span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW38191597" lang="EN-US" style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif , serif , "emojifont"; font-size: 11pt; font-weight: bold; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">A prayer of Moses the man of God.</span><span class="x_EOP x_SCXW38191597" style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "calibri" , "calibri_msfontservice" , sans-serif , serif , "emojifont"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"> </span></div>
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<i style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW38191597" lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 11pt; font-weight: bold; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><br /></span></span></i></div>
<div class="x_Paragraph x_SCXW136996107" lang="EN-US" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; word-wrap: break-word;">
<i style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW38191597" lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 11pt; font-weight: bold; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">1 </span><span class="x_EOP x_SCXW38191597" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"> </span></span></i><i style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW38191597" lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">Lord, you have been our dwelling place</span><span class="x_LineBreakBlob x_BlobObject x_DragDrop x_SCXW38191597" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span class="x_SCXW38191597" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; white-space: pre !important;"> </span></span><span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW38191597" lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">throughout all generations.</span><span class="x_EOP x_SCXW38191597" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"> </span></span></i></div>
<div class="x_Paragraph x_SCXW136996107" lang="EN-US" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; word-wrap: break-word;">
<i style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW38191597" lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 11pt; font-weight: bold; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">2 </span><span class="x_EOP x_SCXW38191597" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"> </span></span></i><i style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW38191597" lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">Before the mountains were born</span><span class="x_LineBreakBlob x_BlobObject x_DragDrop x_SCXW38191597" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span class="x_SCXW38191597" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; white-space: pre !important;"> </span></span><span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW38191597" lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">you brought forth the whole world,</span><span class="x_LineBreakBlob x_BlobObject x_DragDrop x_SCXW38191597" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span class="x_SCXW38191597" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; white-space: pre !important;"> </span></span><span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW38191597" lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">from everlasting to ev</span><span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW38191597" lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">erlasting y</span><span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW38191597" lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">ou are God.</span><span class="x_EOP x_SCXW38191597" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"> </span></span></i></div>
<div class="x_Paragraph x_SCXW136996107" lang="EN-US" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; word-wrap: break-word;">
<i style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW38191597" lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 11pt; font-weight: bold; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">3 </span><span class="x_EOP x_SCXW38191597" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"> </span></span></i><i style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW38191597" lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">You turn people back to dust,</span><span class="x_LineBreakBlob x_BlobObject x_DragDrop x_SCXW38191597" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span class="x_SCXW38191597" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; white-space: pre !important;"> </span></span><span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW38191597" lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">saying, “Return to dust, you mortals.”</span><span class="x_EOP x_SCXW38191597" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"> </span></span></i></div>
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<div class="x_OutlineElement x_Ltr x_SCXW38191597" style="background-color: white; clear: both; color: #17365d; font-size: 16px; margin: 0px; overflow: visible; padding: 0px;">
<div class="x_Paragraph x_SCXW38191597" lang="EN-US" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; word-wrap: break-word;">
<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW38191597" lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 11pt; font-weight: bold; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">4 </span><span class="x_EOP x_SCXW38191597" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"> </span></span></i><i style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW38191597" lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">A thousand years in your sight</span><span class="x_LineBreakBlob x_BlobObject x_DragDrop x_SCXW38191597" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span class="x_SCXW38191597" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; white-space: pre !important;"> </span></span><span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW38191597" lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">are like a day that has just gone by,</span><span class="x_LineBreakBlob x_BlobObject x_DragDrop x_SCXW38191597" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span class="x_SCXW38191597" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; white-space: pre !important;"> </span></span><span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW38191597" lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">or like a watch in the night.</span><span class="x_EOP x_SCXW38191597" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"> </span></span></i></div>
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<div class="x_OutlineElement x_Ltr x_SCXW38191597" style="background-color: white; clear: both; color: #17365d; font-size: 16px; margin: 0px; overflow: visible; padding: 0px;">
<div class="x_Paragraph x_SCXW38191597" lang="EN-US" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; word-wrap: break-word;">
<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW38191597" lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 11pt; font-weight: bold; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">5 </span><span class="x_EOP x_SCXW38191597" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"> </span></span></i><i style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW38191597" lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">Yet you sweep people away in the sleep of death—</span><span class="x_LineBreakBlob x_BlobObject x_DragDrop x_SCXW38191597" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span class="x_SCXW38191597" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; white-space: pre !important;"> </span></span><span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW38191597" lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">they are like the new grass of the morning:</span><span class="x_EOP x_SCXW38191597" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"> </span></span></i></div>
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<div class="x_OutlineElement x_Ltr x_SCXW38191597" style="background-color: white; clear: both; color: #17365d; font-size: 16px; margin: 0px; overflow: visible; padding: 0px;">
<div class="x_Paragraph x_SCXW38191597" lang="EN-US" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; word-wrap: break-word;">
<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW38191597" lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 11pt; font-weight: bold; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">6 </span><span class="x_EOP x_SCXW38191597" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"> </span></span></i><i style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW38191597" lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">In the morning it springs up new,</span><span class="x_LineBreakBlob x_BlobObject x_DragDrop x_SCXW38191597" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span class="x_SCXW38191597" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; white-space: pre !important;"> </span></span><span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW38191597" lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">but by evening it is dry and withered.</span><span class="x_LineBreakBlob x_BlobObject x_DragDrop x_SCXW38191597" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span class="x_SCXW38191597" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; white-space: pre !important;"> </span></span></span></i></div>
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<div class="x_OutlineElement x_Ltr x_SCXW38191597" style="background-color: white; clear: both; color: #17365d; font-size: 16px; margin: 0px; overflow: visible; padding: 0px;">
<div class="x_Paragraph x_SCXW38191597" lang="EN-US" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; word-wrap: break-word;">
<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW38191597" lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 11pt; font-weight: bold; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">10 </span><span class="x_EOP x_SCXW38191597" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"> </span></span></i><i style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW38191597" lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">Our days may come to seventy years,</span><span class="x_LineBreakBlob x_BlobObject x_DragDrop x_SCXW38191597" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span class="x_SCXW38191597" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; white-space: pre !important;"> </span></span><span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW38191597" lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">or eighty, if our strength endures;</span><span class="x_LineBreakBlob x_BlobObject x_DragDrop x_SCXW38191597" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span class="x_SCXW38191597" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; white-space: pre !important;"> </span></span><span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW38191597" lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">yet the best of them are but trouble and sorrow,</span><span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW38191597" lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"> for they quickly pass, and we fly away.</span><span class="x_EOP x_SCXW38191597" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"> </span></span></i></div>
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<div class="x_OutlineElement x_Ltr x_SCXW38191597" style="background-color: white; clear: both; color: #17365d; font-size: 16px; margin: 0px; overflow: visible; padding: 0px;">
<div class="x_Paragraph x_SCXW38191597" lang="EN-US" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; word-wrap: break-word;">
<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW38191597" lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 11pt; font-weight: bold; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">12 </span><span class="x_EOP x_SCXW38191597" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"> </span></span></i><i style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW38191597" lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">Teach us to number our days,</span><span class="x_LineBreakBlob x_BlobObject x_DragDrop x_SCXW38191597" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span class="x_SCXW38191597" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; white-space: pre !important;"> </span></span><span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW38191597" lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">that we may gain a heart of wisdom.</span><span class="x_EOP x_SCXW38191597" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"> </span></span></i></div>
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<div class="x_OutlineElement x_Ltr x_SCXW38191597" style="background-color: white; clear: both; color: #17365d; font-size: 16px; margin: 0px; overflow: visible; padding: 0px;">
<div class="x_Paragraph x_SCXW38191597" lang="EN-US" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; word-wrap: break-word;">
<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW38191597" lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 11pt; font-weight: bold; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">14 </span><span class="x_EOP x_SCXW38191597" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"> </span></span></i><i style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW38191597" lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">Satisfy us in the morning with your unfailing love,</span><span class="x_LineBreakBlob x_BlobObject x_DragDrop x_SCXW38191597" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span class="x_SCXW38191597" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; white-space: pre !important;"> </span></span><span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW38191597" lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">that we may sing for joy and be glad all our days.</span><span class="x_EOP x_SCXW38191597" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"> </span></span></i></div>
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<div class="x_OutlineElement x_Ltr x_SCXW38191597" style="background-color: white; clear: both; color: #17365d; font-size: 16px; margin: 0px; overflow: visible; padding: 0px;">
<div class="x_Paragraph x_SCXW38191597" lang="EN-US" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; word-wrap: break-word;">
<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW38191597" lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 11pt; font-weight: bold; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">15 </span><span class="x_EOP x_SCXW38191597" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"> </span></span></i><i style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW38191597" lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">Make us glad for as many days as you have afflicted us,</span><span class="x_LineBreakBlob x_BlobObject x_DragDrop x_SCXW38191597" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span class="x_SCXW38191597" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; white-space: pre !important;"> </span></span><span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW38191597" lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">for as many years as we have seen trouble.</span><span class="x_EOP x_SCXW38191597" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"> </span></span></i></div>
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<div class="x_OutlineElement x_Ltr x_SCXW38191597" style="background-color: white; clear: both; color: #17365d; font-size: 16px; margin: 0px; overflow: visible; padding: 0px;">
<div class="x_Paragraph x_SCXW38191597" lang="EN-US" style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; word-wrap: break-word;">
<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW38191597" lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><b>17</b></span><span class="x_EOP x_SCXW38191597" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"> </span></span></i><i style="background-color: transparent; color: windowtext;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW38191597" lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">May the </span><span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW38191597" lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">favour</span><span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW38191597" lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"> of the Lord our God rest on us;</span><span class="x_LineBreakBlob x_BlobObject x_DragDrop x_SCXW38191597" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span class="x_SCXW38191597" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; white-space: pre !important;"> </span></span><span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW38191597" lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">establish the work of our hands for us—</span><span class="x_LineBreakBlob x_BlobObject x_DragDrop x_SCXW38191597" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span class="x_SCXW38191597" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; white-space: pre !important;"> </span></span><span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW38191597" lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">yes, establish the work of our hands.</span><span class="x_EOP x_SCXW38191597" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"> </span></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span class="x_TextRun x_SCXW38191597" lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">AMEN</span><span class="x_EOP x_SCXW38191597" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"> </span></span></i></div>
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Anyone who has brought flowers is welcome to lay them or to join me in scattering handfuls of rose petals while we listen to Zena sing. <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jf2XesWRt34" target="_blank">Link to hear Zena perform her own song for Junior Eurovision</a></div>
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Thank you for coming.</div>
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Mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03256998823947399911noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6764620.post-22971399552270225952017-12-23T10:29:00.005-08:002017-12-24T19:03:16.160-08:00Xmas and How to Like it<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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A winter storm hit our town in eastern Canada last week, and in anticipation of a power outage, we got flashlights and candles ready, set aside some hot water in large thermoses, put a fire in the fireplace, and considered whether there was enough bread and peanut butter at the ready. We are fortunate that surviving the winter is so simple nowadays, and we imagined the anxiety of ancient peoples at Yuletide.<br />
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The Emperor Constantine and later popes seem to have created Christmas by re-interpreting such festivals as Saturnalia and Yule, and it probably was not too big a stretch. As we all do when we feel the fragility of our existence, these ancient 'pagans' probably spent cold and hungry times feeling regret for not behaving well, grateful for all that sustained them, and inclined to make promises to their deity should they survive. It's a time of year that goes well with religion and with reflection on the precariousness of our existence.<br />
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It can be a hard time of year to survive, and many people are sad and lonely right now. I will admit that I've been one of those who dreads this day. Now, after nine Christmases without my little boy, I think I have reached a kind of turning point. I have learned a thing or two about how to live with this inevitable festival... a few things that bear repeating.<br />
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<b><span style="color: red;">1. It can mean whatever you want it to.</span></b><br />
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Maybe you find it too commercial, too fake, too pressurised, too conformist. Just remember this: the winter solstice has lent itself to just about everything. At one point, in Cromwell's Puritan England, it was a day of penance and fasting! When you think of the plurality of ancient and modern religious festivals at this time of year, you begin to realise that you can create your own traditions and your own narrative to help you get through it. Fight back against the woeful feelings. Take what you need from the Christmas season, and ditch the rest.<br />
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<span style="color: red;"><b>2. It's never the wrong time to be grateful.</b></span><br />
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People will wish you Merry Christmas and you just cringe. How about just saying 'thank you' instead? You hear a lot about the power of gratitude, and yet when things are not going your way it can become very hard to practice. We easily get consumed with what we don't want, what is happening in our lives that we reject. Look at it this way instead: gratitude is not related to what we want, it's about what we don't want to lose. In my case, in my darkest hours and craziest panic, I learned to chant a kind of litany of gratitude ('thank you for my eyes, thank you for my sight, thank you for my eyelashes, thank you for my eyebrows...' and so on). It may seem silly, but any of those can be lost, and life is more difficult without them. Not only does gratitude relativise your problems and sadness, it can bring you into the now, into a safer and smaller space. It really works.<br />
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<b><span style="color: red;">3. It's never the wrong time to give.</span></b><br />
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The corollary to gratitude is giving. When you have made gratitude work for you, you will quite naturally be made aware of how many people are less fortunate than you. I don't think comparing oneself to others is particularly healthy - there will always be those better and worse off, and as the saying goes, that can make you either too envious or too proud. I also don't advocate being generous just for the validation of having someone thank you. When you can give of your time or your resources - even as a secret donor, or just listening sympathetically to someone else - you have a place in the world, and this will ease your sadness.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY-XHPUebskfi61KCN2Cnp4KH7A6k_tPV7DMsyRJvL3ZHmsyOLe5ZsgIj5mudrnPlMnNClgUb8AmByYUGhfU-DraPqnTzm8BZTR20is_FyEwTSZ4SIrhe8No4G8aRjyyLhlGLTng/s1600/Sun+after+snow.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1530" data-original-width="1600" height="190" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY-XHPUebskfi61KCN2Cnp4KH7A6k_tPV7DMsyRJvL3ZHmsyOLe5ZsgIj5mudrnPlMnNClgUb8AmByYUGhfU-DraPqnTzm8BZTR20is_FyEwTSZ4SIrhe8No4G8aRjyyLhlGLTng/s200/Sun+after+snow.jpg" width="200" /></a>This year on the 25th of December, Christmas Day, my beloved child Thomas will have been gone 3,584 days... that's as many days as he lived. It's a surreal and dreaded milestone, like Christmas itself has been for the past 9 years. And so, this year, I am going to make it special. I'm going to apply the lessons I've learned, I'll take from it what feels right for me, I'm going to be grateful, and I'm going to try to give something significant.</div>
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In memory of my child who could not be cured, I'm giving to INARA, a medical charity for children (link below) that really can be helped.</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Thank you for reading this, for your friendship and affection, and for being who you are in my life.</span></div>
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Best wishes to you and yours at this holiday time of year.</div>
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<b><i>If anyone is looking for a children's charity to support, I have a great idea! Please join me in donating to INARA in memory of Thomas or another child at <span style="color: red;"><a href="https://www.inara.org/" target="_blank"><span style="color: red;">https://www.inara.org/</span></a> </span>where <span style="color: blue;">100% of your donation goes to provide life-changing medical treatment </span>to children who are victims of the Syrian conflict. The founder is the CNN journalist Arwa Damon. She is the niece of one of my dearest friends, and I have complete faith in her and in the integrity of this organisation. </i></b></div>
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<i>Photos</i></div>
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<i>Left: Thomas and me on his 9th and last birthday</i></div>
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<i>Below: Thomas' last Christmas, his cousin's first</i></div>
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Mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03256998823947399911noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6764620.post-77920823588210898962017-05-11T23:31:00.000-07:002017-05-11T23:31:54.538-07:00Let it Shine<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy0vPo55ovEA2vyATvvwALyzerfJVsDTRwIaw6l-Zni8gCFCDAoilzoUuB2CjwLeHpSw-AOvR3PrT_Gr81cyatrTK_pQ5RQmVW8G5JzoJ6EwjueHMxeKV-e0WEHfTSpQg0FHqRmw/s1600/Thomas+on+the+Strand.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy0vPo55ovEA2vyATvvwALyzerfJVsDTRwIaw6l-Zni8gCFCDAoilzoUuB2CjwLeHpSw-AOvR3PrT_Gr81cyatrTK_pQ5RQmVW8G5JzoJ6EwjueHMxeKV-e0WEHfTSpQg0FHqRmw/s320/Thomas+on+the+Strand.JPG" width="240" /></a><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: small;">When you lose someone you love, you have to let go of a lot of things. Some of them are huge, because some losses change your life completely. But a lot of them are small, and insignificant to everyone but yourself. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: small;">Often it is that small, intimate and intensely personal connection to your loved one that is hardest to let go. Those are the little things you never speak about. That is your own precious and personal claim to that person. Sure, it hurts. But that pain feels like somehow, in some way, you are still relating to them. You are keeping them alive.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: small;">Then there are other things in between. There are the things you hold on to less tightly, but these are easier for other people to understand, easier to share. Things like rituals or anniversaries, events or friendships allow you to connect more comfortably with other people to talk about the one you miss. It’s harder to know when to let go of those.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: small;">A birthday is one of them.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: small;">My Thomas would have been 19 today, the 12th of May 2017. He is still 9 years old for me, and he will soon be dead longer than we has alive. It lots of ways, it feels weird to commemorate this day.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: small;">Most of the children who were his friends are losing the memory of him now that they are adults. Life goes on, people grow apart, and there are fewer and fewer people in my everyday life now who knew my son at all.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: small;">The point of remembering this day at all seems to have shifted. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: small;">The treatment for neuroblastoma is cruel and inhumane, but Thomas loved life, and throughout most of his treatment he wanted to fight for it. There were times though, when he had had enough. There were times when even the oncology professionals wondered if we were going too far. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy5qSSYOSblAkGHFyybhEuKqisjtSttKqK4AaJ-nyHkgOBClCs-9nRWio-09N_I0rzZnLLxpKvcwgjchrendfMkJTqWJcteCIRfTn-btB0mD6-H1JVr0cFFdM6EXMbhxBdJY5Viw/s1600/Thomas+squinting.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy5qSSYOSblAkGHFyybhEuKqisjtSttKqK4AaJ-nyHkgOBClCs-9nRWio-09N_I0rzZnLLxpKvcwgjchrendfMkJTqWJcteCIRfTn-btB0mD6-H1JVr0cFFdM6EXMbhxBdJY5Viw/s320/Thomas+squinting.jpg" width="259" /></a><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: small;">Then, as now, I felt really strongly that it was worth it. Not only for him, because he had such a capacity for love and fun and wanted it so much, it’s also because even when he was really unwell, he made the world a better place.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: small;">I really do believe the world was a better place because Thomas was once in it, and his birthday is something that prompts me to try and be a better person. I want to share some of that inspiration with everyone I know.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: small;">At his funeral, his classmates performed an old gospel song at my request. “This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine”… I doubt they understood how profound it was for me, but perhaps those reading today will understand.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: small;">So today, on what would have been his 19th birthday, I want to ask everyone of you who reads this to think how to show your gratitude for some special child in your life today. Simple things can mean a lot - a phone call, sharing a joke, being a little extra patient. If you would rather do something more concrete, please have a look at the wonderful work INARA are doing to provide medical assistance to Syrian children. All donations go directly to children's treatments and giving online at <a href="http://www.inara.org/">www.inara.org</a> is really easy. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: small;">Thank you for your friendship to me and for your place in this world. Let your little light shine… </span></div>
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Mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03256998823947399911noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6764620.post-92195911852900346072016-12-24T10:54:00.001-08:002016-12-24T11:31:27.425-08:00The Ghost of Christmas Past<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">For years, I loathed Christmas. All the playing along with the unsustainable fiction... It just seemed to make bad things worse. </span></div>
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I have my reasons.<br /><br />My son Thomas' last Christmas was in 2007, when he was 9 years old.</div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Staff and volunteers work hard to care for the ill and their families, playing a balancing game between gentle fantasy and knowing looks... but Christmas Eve on a paediatric cancer ward is pretty grim. </span></div>
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I remember how many of us were cursing Christmas. It would just have been another rotten Tuesday if it were not for this play-acting... if it were not for this agonising charade. It was costing us more than usual to <span style="font-size: 12pt;">pretend to be happy. </span><br /></div>
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The truth is, of course, that we never know for certain which birthday, Christmas or anniversary will be our last. But stoicism is for adults, not for sick children.</div>
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What children need... is<span style="font-size: 12pt;"> fiction. </span></div>
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<br />Preparing for Thomas to depart us gently in his sleep, it was going to be my mission to sustain a fiction for him. I wanted him to have, as much as possible, a sense of lightness and play throughout every last fleeting wakeful moment. </div>
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So many adults have forgotten how to play. This is to deprive our adult lives of a tremendous resource, because<span style="font-size: 12pt;"> just when you think you have nothing left, the power of play is mighty. </span></div>
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I can't remember which toy it was that gave me the idea that Christmas Eve, but playing with it gave rise to t<span style="font-size: 12pt;">he story, and the story went like this... </span><br /><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">As a family of Canadians living in Ireland, the Canadian Embassy was helping to ensure that the North Pole, which is in Canada (or as good as), was getting all the latest information about any Canadian children in hospital. The Embassy had passed on my number to the authorities, and just to be sure we wouldn't worry, Santa himself was making a quick call to let us know he was still hoping that Thomas would be home soon. </span></div>
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As the game went on, it grew beyond those couple of toys. I knew somebody who was an actor, and I secretly offered him a special role. I changed his contact details on my phone to read "North Pole", and I co-opted one of our nurses to come remind me that all mobile phones should be off because they interfere with the pumps. The stage was set. </div>
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Such a slender work of fiction it was, but how powerful!</div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">When Santa's miraculous call came through, the charm was electrifying. My friend Sean played the part perfectly, and Thomas' jaw dropped. </span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Colour rose to his jaundiced cheeks, and a wide smile transformed his tired face. Santa... "The Legend"!</span></div>
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Later that evening, the fever broke, and we were given permission to take our boy home just shortly before midnight. </div>
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The apartment was cold, but it smelled of the tree we had bought the week before, and the noise of buzzers and trolleys and screaming children did not disturb our sleep. </div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">In the morning, we opened our packages, and for a few hours, kept our saddest feelings in a different kind of box. What relief! </span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">It seems we humans can carry any burden, as long as there is the prospect of some relief. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Remembering that Christmas past, my inner Scrooge has learned a thing or two.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Play and respite are vital to human health. All humans desperately require relief, and if it is not given to them, they will seek it in the form of some story, be it real or fictional.</span></div>
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If we cannot find relief in this particular holiday, we will need to find it somewhere else, but until we do, we ought at least try not to make it more difficult for others to sustain their particular fiction.</div>
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After all, we are all merely playing our own game, doing our best, engaging in a story that helps us put one foot in front of another. And that's important.</div>
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And so, this Christmas, I will just play along.</div>
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With love to all bereaved parents at this time...</div>
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Mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03256998823947399911noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6764620.post-5678508911402430352015-05-11T15:55:00.002-07:002015-05-12T09:18:21.576-07:0017 years ago today, I had a child<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">17 years ago today, I had a baby.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The ultrasound had revealed it was a boy, and very large. The grainy printout showing his face eventually revealed that he looked like himself even then. He was a real person to me certainly by the time I was six months pregnant, and I had a precise vision of the hybrid of myself and his father that he would turn out to be. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I loved him right from the first time I heard his heartbeat, but at that stage it was a kind of instinct more than an emotion... a ferocious protective instinct. I promised him I would always do my best for him. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">So... my baby was a big one, and his head never turned in the right direction for him to be born safely. It was frightening to think what it would be like to get him out, and whether we should risk a "natural" delivery with doctors pounding and squeezing us to turn him around and push him out. There would be a risk of strangulation with the umbilical cord. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">When they told me a Caesarean section would be the safest birth for him, it didn’t matter to me that they would cut through layers and layers of my own flesh to achieve that. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">His father's reasons for not being with me during my pregnancy were hard for me to accept, but I guess they made sense to him and I suppose I appeared to be coping by working long hours and keeping busy. I talked to my baby instead, shaping a narrative in which it was him and me against the world… where I was going to be twice as strong for being alone, giving all my troubles the highest sense of purpose.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I felt sure I could move heaven and earth for him, let alone the furnishings of the entire house. Some sort of nesting instinct had me rearranging furniture, sitting on the floor and shifting it with my legs, or waddling it onto a towel and pulling it across the hardwood floor.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">His father arrived to live with me only nine days before the operation was scheduled, and in a desperate and failed attempt to repair some connection between us, I asked the doctors to postpone my C-section another week, until the 12th of May</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; line-height: 1.38; white-space: pre-wrap;">. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I went to work the day before the operation, and received baby shower gifts and well-wishes from all my colleagues. I wore a dress that I had sewn myself in the spare time I had had while living alone. That night was sleepless and a few hours later I was in Columbia Hospital for Women in Washington, D.C.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Hospital can make you feel like a piece of meat. I had never had a cannula before and was astonished that a tube could just be shoved in through your skin without any incision, but everything worked perfectly well. I was partly sedated I think before the epidural. It didn’t live up to its risky reputation, and before I knew it, I was on my back being cut open.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I felt nothing but tugging, and no pain whatsoever, but that didn’t stop me from a feeling of panic. I squeezed my husband’s hand as tightly as I could until he fainted.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBiUyLIRaQWhqqnhnvd51I1sc8c6BItiKlyL-RU-wg_1E6wvqpy8IyHlVggD21v6aWKaGFWOCEsClkUGyy0jkiNvKfSmw7IRjcDXfuMqE0Edj43sZpbSEfwAYla8h1IqEzHiDtdA/s1600/imgres.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBiUyLIRaQWhqqnhnvd51I1sc8c6BItiKlyL-RU-wg_1E6wvqpy8IyHlVggD21v6aWKaGFWOCEsClkUGyy0jkiNvKfSmw7IRjcDXfuMqE0Edj43sZpbSEfwAYla8h1IqEzHiDtdA/s1600/imgres.jpg" /></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Baby was born spraying a pee over everyone, much to their amusement. I asked to see him right away, and my blue-ish grey baby was brought to hover near my face for a second before being whisked off for the business of being washed and measured. I breathed a big sigh of relief and closed my eyes, and my husband left the room. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I lay still but awake on the table while the nurses washed me and giggled as they washed the blood out of my private hair. They were going to put it up in braids, they laughed. I mumbled to ask them what was so funny… they quickly apologised and said they thought I was asleep.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">My baby had been born at 1:55 on that Tuesday afternoon, and brought to me again shortly afterward when we were both clean and wrapped in blankets. The big baby everyone had been talking so much about was a very small creature after all, and my heart melted when they put him in my arms. There was that smell. That new baby smell that is probably repulsive to anyone but its own mother. Was that the smell of me… the inside of me? Gratitude and wonder swirled in my head as I fell into a kind of self-sacrificial devotion. New mother love is not like anything else I have ever felt. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB_apkko64foin7_CG3mf56XVFORUoiIAX06pF5cYsqh0Bq58Tjw6JXlg1kSsNUC6h2WMsS18Y0X93lldBJnAtPBiBLGtyZJtT7WjESZAKiToechDTZjpIu92v-FAuNdNbQQylpw/s1600/009bca6faf4b49d312617bc69a01f050.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB_apkko64foin7_CG3mf56XVFORUoiIAX06pF5cYsqh0Bq58Tjw6JXlg1kSsNUC6h2WMsS18Y0X93lldBJnAtPBiBLGtyZJtT7WjESZAKiToechDTZjpIu92v-FAuNdNbQQylpw/s400/009bca6faf4b49d312617bc69a01f050.jpg" width="290" /></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I held him in my left arm and stroked his delicate cheek with my right. A tiny fist formed around the little finger of my right hand. My baby boy was holding on to me instinctively as I cuddled him. That was his first greeting. </span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Many times I told him that story - of how we met in the hospital and he shook my hand. He would smile and cuddle me and hold my little finger in his fist as if he were a baby again. How could it be possible to love someone more than we two loved each other? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">How can I explain how much I miss him now, on the day of his birth? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">His suffering is over, but his surviving family will ache for him until we too lay down our burdens forever.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i style="background-color: #3d85c6;"><span style="color: white;">To: Marie R., Darina, and Mary-Lynn</span></i></span>
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Mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03256998823947399911noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6764620.post-62809508367109467912014-12-24T12:42:00.003-08:002015-01-06T14:17:30.007-08:00Crows-mas Message<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNZDj1EN7S0ClNjP7EJDtx2zRuAH5Gepi3JBZ3cgYfjsqrrh2SEvptANWxvUuFPp6qmDPToOGvaL_DyftJXwQp_qs5bHtWDxfssxlgugh46oP9LT46xI7A6cHTY-AYjILf5w_FVA/s1600/IMG_1895.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNZDj1EN7S0ClNjP7EJDtx2zRuAH5Gepi3JBZ3cgYfjsqrrh2SEvptANWxvUuFPp6qmDPToOGvaL_DyftJXwQp_qs5bHtWDxfssxlgugh46oP9LT46xI7A6cHTY-AYjILf5w_FVA/s1600/IMG_1895.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dublin sky, sunrise</td></tr>
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A solitary black crow glided to a tree by my house this morning as I watched the sun rise in the southeastern sky. </div>
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At 53 degrees latitude, sunrise on Christmas Eve is at 8:39, at 130 degrees southeast, which is the exact orientation of my front door. </div>
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<span style="text-align: left;">Christmas Eve is always a tough day for bereaved parents. I had been dreading the sunrise on this day for weeks.</span><br />
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I took my coffee with me and sat on the threshold, and watched the pale sun appear straight ahead.</div>
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I remembered how people back home in St. John's used to bring their mug with them to the front door, and sit across the threshold - practically on the sidewalk - to chat with neighbours and watch the passers-by. It's funny what you remember when you have been away for decades.<br />
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This morning the only passer-by was that solitary crow.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-MVG8bbYR3tkHZ3vEUGwYTkty8cAX8XpP8dhm-m609lpxFNejJ5aG2gIX3VRHVRXtmDombmTy8AmJjDKFa3xVU8Wpo1TzaTWMFThsGc22z6q7pwROc3U7a9XzxKf4zVRmKeON5g/s1600/IMG_1892.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-MVG8bbYR3tkHZ3vEUGwYTkty8cAX8XpP8dhm-m609lpxFNejJ5aG2gIX3VRHVRXtmDombmTy8AmJjDKFa3xVU8Wpo1TzaTWMFThsGc22z6q7pwROc3U7a9XzxKf4zVRmKeON5g/s1600/IMG_1892.jpg" height="150" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dublin sky, morning</td></tr>
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Appearing as it did between night and morning, it seemed ready to fill its mystical role of guide between realms of consciousness. And I was ready for it, brimming with nostalgia and memory...</div>
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People tell you all sorts of things when you stand between two worlds, and this may explain why so many people brought their spiritually to me when my boy was fighting for his life. </div>
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One very good friend revealed her devotion to shamanism, and I learned about what they describe as "spirit guides" from the animal world. Meditating on these animal spirits, I understand they embark on a kind of semi-conscious journey to the <i>Id. </i></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCXEmV_p7VHTFex9NkLdKlUYML1U784SI5qyZI8hTGeuoJeG38HOnv-FAn6Hso8Y96Cgb-3Ij5TNo8ZQsw5w_YjznnVZgjzZSchcylUO1OCk0SZ0G3_6P8MMEUFgw0JrkARp_3bw/s1600/IMG_5553.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCXEmV_p7VHTFex9NkLdKlUYML1U784SI5qyZI8hTGeuoJeG38HOnv-FAn6Hso8Y96Cgb-3Ij5TNo8ZQsw5w_YjznnVZgjzZSchcylUO1OCk0SZ0G3_6P8MMEUFgw0JrkARp_3bw/s1600/IMG_5553.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">mummers' props, St. John's</td></tr>
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My friend and her circle undertook to drum and journey for me at that terrible time. Some of them had visions that they described and told me about through my friend, conjuring up images that they hoped would connect me, through symbolism, to the shared energy of the natural world. </div>
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The crow is a powerful and important creature in shamanic belief, and so I observed my elegant black visitor with that in mind.</div>
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Although this will be the seventh Christmas without my boy, I still don't celebrate it. I only want to breathe my way through it... retreat and wait for it to pass.<br />
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<span style="text-align: justify;">As I wait, the image of that single crow remains with me.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxN65tTWnkOG5o7ghgl_30W2NwBEo1mPBr4S_KPFoUF190zIb3nBXoDhRVzgCQYg8jUBF5143GCuzwv5T-MxLDSd0keCep7ybAsDr5Fu_P9pBFu8iOZD3D7XqQfloCK-NQ29rkIA/s1600/IMG_7460.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxN65tTWnkOG5o7ghgl_30W2NwBEo1mPBr4S_KPFoUF190zIb3nBXoDhRVzgCQYg8jUBF5143GCuzwv5T-MxLDSd0keCep7ybAsDr5Fu_P9pBFu8iOZD3D7XqQfloCK-NQ29rkIA/s1600/IMG_7460.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="text-align: justify;">Lots of us</span><span style="text-align: justify;"> are feeling black and solitary, and Christmas makes it worse.</span><br />
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Lots of us will just be trying to breathe our way through the next transition of darkness to light.<br />
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Many of us will relate to that image of a crow skimming the shadows against a dawn sky... stealthy and stoic.<br />
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If you are feeling that way today, may that crow image help you too, and may you be at peace today and always.<br />
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">(If you are a bereaved parent in Ireland, do investigate the support of others via <a href="http://www.anamcara.ie/">www.anamcara.ie</a>)</span></i><br />
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Mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03256998823947399911noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6764620.post-72166673052920768642014-11-18T16:35:00.000-08:002015-01-02T10:11:10.713-08:00Remembering the Berlin Wall<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<b style="background-color: white; color: #17365d; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15.4545450210571px; line-height: 21.2999992370605px;">Remembering the Berlin Wall</b><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe-q160wy5xUmlMxy43HiF3yAZH38gkhrz5JJ380dbxptJA3BdbHC-uPWUpNpofC2S6pPBuF0b0WIMEp7vhnKmWsu1LSePKmeJN-_0d2mRWoyfb14_AmMInsnw3P1xC4tyjmtLBg/s1600/Thefalloftheberlinwall1989.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe-q160wy5xUmlMxy43HiF3yAZH38gkhrz5JJ380dbxptJA3BdbHC-uPWUpNpofC2S6pPBuF0b0WIMEp7vhnKmWsu1LSePKmeJN-_0d2mRWoyfb14_AmMInsnw3P1xC4tyjmtLBg/s1600/Thefalloftheberlinwall1989.jpeg" height="240" width="320" /></a><span style="color: #17365d; line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 22.7199974060059px;">Twenty-five years ago this November, the Berlin Wall was finally toppled. Nobody in Newfoundland expected that would change their life. </span></span><span style="font-size: xx-small; line-height: 21.2999992370605px; text-align: right;"> </span></div>
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<span style="color: #17365d;"><span style="font-size: 15.4545450210571px; line-height: 21.2999992370605px;">Neither could Winston Churchill, when signing the Atlantic Charter that invited the Americans to build the airbase in Gander in 1941, have imagined he was pin-pricking a hole in the despicable 'Iron Curtain'. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #17365d;">Remembering the horrors of Nazi Germany, it is not really so hard to understand why the Berlin Wall was called the “Anti-Fascist Protection Rampart” (<i style="line-height: 21.2999992370605px;">Antifaschistischer Schutzwall</i>) by idealists on the eastern side. It is more difficult, in our privileged part of the world, to fully appreciate the oppression it came to symbolize.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #17365d;"><span style="font-size: 15.4545450210571px; line-height: 21.2999992370605px;">In the early 1980s I visited Berlin as an </span><i style="font-size: 15.4545450210571px; line-height: 21.2999992370605px;">“Au Pair” Mädchen</i><span style="font-size: 15.4545450210571px; line-height: 21.2999992370605px;">. I was working for a German family in Heidelberg, and we drove all the way north in a classic Mercedes-Benz to spend a week there. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #17365d;">We were approved to cross the border into East Germany at Marienborn, and instructed to drive directly to West Berlin along a restricted highway which cut <span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 22.7199974060059px;">through vast expanses of farmland. The only sign of life was in the handful of labourers we saw wearing dusty clothing, driving horses and ploughs as if they belonged in a painting by Jean-François Millet. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #17365d;">West Berlin was, of course, the complete antithesis of that anachronistic peasant idyll. As an <i style="line-height: 21.2999992370605px;">au pair</i> with two small boys to mind, I spent most of that week pushing a pram in the English gardens of the elegant Charlottenburg palace. It was a few days before a family relative offered to show me Berlin <i style="line-height: 21.2999992370605px;">bei Nacht</i> (by night). That was at 1:00 a.m. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #17365d;">Over the next six hours, I had the time of my life. <span style="font-size: 15.4545450210571px; line-height: 21.2999992370605px;">West Berliners, walled-in and threatened as they were, seemed to want to live life to the hilt.</span><span style="font-size: 15.4545450210571px; line-height: 21.2999992370605px;"> </span></span></div>
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Being walled-in and threatened had no such effect in the east.</div>
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East Berlin was surprisingly accessible by commuter rail at several points. We crossed the gash in the landscape spotted with watchtowers, observed by rifle-toting guards with binoculars. Once across, all visitors were obliged to exchange 15 Deutschmarks for East-German marks -<i style="line-height: 21.2999992370605px;">on par</i>- as we passed border control. Through to the other side of the Brandenburg Gate, we looked vainly for a place in which to spend it. </div>
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There was nothing to see and nowhere to go. Ancient official-looking buildings, abandoned, still ridden with the evidence of war-time shell-fire, cautioned us glumly against looking beyond the very sad-looking <i style="line-height: 21.2999992370605px;">Pariserplatz</i> (Paris Square). </div>
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<span style="font-size: 15.4545450210571px; line-height: 21.2999992370605px;">By then, Gander International Airport was already established as one of the other ways out of East Berlin. As a low-security refuelling stop for flights between Cuba and Moscow, defection was easy ...as long as passengers were allowed to disembark. Gander was already known in Berlin as "the hole in the 'Iron Curtain'".</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 15.4545450210571px; line-height: 21.2999992370605px;">Getting on that flight to begin with was the hard part. While citizens of Warsaw Pact countries might travel easily to Moscow, the Moscow-Havana flight was restricted to Communist Party members and official business. </span></div>
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I met one East Berliner who escaped through Gander years earlier, and he explained it was rare that an unmarried person would be allowed to travel to Cuba, precisely because of the stop in Gander. Spouses were always left at home, and there would be harsh consequences for the family of any “traitor” who defected. This was an efficient disincentive.</div>
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As totalitarian regimes crumbled one by one, that threat dissolved. Tickets were available to anyone who could buy one, and by February of 1990, the towns of Gander and St. John’s were flooded with defectors from the former Soviet bloc.</div>
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If you have spent a few winters in Newfoundland, you will know a thing or two about feeling oppressed and wanting to escape. More than once, you will have wished yourself on a plane to Cuba in February. More than once, you will have wondered what terrible hardship your English and Irish ancestors were fleeing, if a winter in Newfoundland was the preferred alternative.</div>
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These stirrings of empathy compelled our communities to help the new arrivals. Generous Newfoundlanders are at their best in such circumstances, and we provided clothing, shelter and English lessons. </div>
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Poles, Hungarians, Czechs, Russians and Ukrainians have a long history of immigration to Canada, and there are large second-generation communities on the mainland that provided a logical resettling place for the Havana-bound travellers that deplaned in 1990. </div>
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The Bulgarians had no such history. As they were in less of a hurry to move on, they were the ones with whom we bonded most. Eventually, I married one of them.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">National Theatre, Sofia (my photo)</td></tr>
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What little we knew of Bulgaria was a product of cold-war propaganda. Our impression came from that episode of “The Sandbaggers” (a late 1970s British TV series) set in Sofia. The street scenes were shot at night, in brick-lined alleys stained with coal dust. It looked poor and dirty… a place built for factory-fodder. As I discovered later from my many visits to Bulgaria, those scenes were more likely filmed in Sheffield than Sofia.</div>
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In reality, Bulgaria is a beautiful and varied agricultural country. It provides the vast majority of the world's supply of rose oil. Its old towns are littered with Roman ruins. Miles of golden sand stretch along its Black Sea coast. The Balkan Mountains are awe-inspiring, and dotted with spectacular ski resorts. </div>
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Visiting Bulgaria today, it is hard to imagine anyone really wanting to leave it, except for the usual reasons - work and <i style="line-height: 21.2999992370605px;">Wanderlust</i>. It is hard to remember what justified those feelings of fear a quarter of a century ago... fear that led so many thousands to risk losing everything.</div>
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Today in the heart of Sofia there are two monuments that serve to remind us of the grim legacy of totalitarianism. Both of them are walls.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Memorial to Victims of Communism, Sofia (my photo)</td></tr>
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One is a recent construction, mirroring the Vietnam War Memorial in Washington, DC. It is a deep, black scar on the landscape, and it is inscribed quite simply with the <br />
names of thousands of victims of the former regime.<br />
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<span style="line-height: 21.2999992370605px;">The second is a tall slab of weathered concrete, covered in faded graffiti. Next to it is a plaque, describing it as a gift from the people of Germany to the people of Bulgaria. It conveys a brief and sentimental message about how the two countries are united in grief and in hope. </span><br />
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<span style="line-height: 21.2999992370605px;">It is, of course, a segment of the Berlin Wall.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjUB6Kv0zpw4iN-HvYAwL-eXiMkVgnAL6hLBY9mAS5Wfegmo4HvjQ_UI6L4RXiYwoGUYGDSAtU_1Z9Fhpx1YID3bHuFNAFAthsKH_Pfg8pzPw_DiQXiPSaXwTydhdazCr-LbeLcw/s1600/IMG_6277.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjUB6Kv0zpw4iN-HvYAwL-eXiMkVgnAL6hLBY9mAS5Wfegmo4HvjQ_UI6L4RXiYwoGUYGDSAtU_1Z9Fhpx1YID3bHuFNAFAthsKH_Pfg8pzPw_DiQXiPSaXwTydhdazCr-LbeLcw/s1600/IMG_6277.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Berlin Wall segment, Sofia (my photo)<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo credits:</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">1. <span style="line-height: 21.2999992370605px; text-align: right;">"Thefalloftheberlinwall1989" by Unknown photographer, </span><span style="line-height: 21.2999992370605px; text-align: right;">Licensed under </span><span style="line-height: 21.2999992370605px; text-align: right;">Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 via Wikimedia Commons</span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 21.2999992370605px; text-align: right;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">2. </span></span><span style="color: #17365d; font-family: Times; font-size: x-small; line-height: 21.2999992370605px;">"Berlin Wall death strip" 1977 by George Garrigues (GeorgeLouis) </span><span style="color: #17365d; font-size: x-small; line-height: 21.2999992370605px;">via Wikimedia Commons -</span></div>
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<span class="s1"><b>Goodbye, Mrs. B.</b></span></div>
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<span class="s1">A Personal Tribute to Barbara Barrett</span></div>
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<span class="s1">(1921-2014)</span></div>
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<span class="s1"><a href="http://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/newfoundland-labrador/barbara-barrett-matriarch-of-newfoundland-theatre-dead-at-92-1.2813584" target="_blank">(For obituary click here)</a></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpH_9RkIge_u0-f48mDzvLgQGRhE8Lk8z9uX18HkOUYROOn7rYNSCt-0ViVlZufuOKfD2c_emzd_inS6coKhTtBYAZxYZhdnx-Y1riXqBcuXv_laE2U_PCGnQebliQ5Pc9s1mmYQ/s1600/IMG_3862.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpH_9RkIge_u0-f48mDzvLgQGRhE8Lk8z9uX18HkOUYROOn7rYNSCt-0ViVlZufuOKfD2c_emzd_inS6coKhTtBYAZxYZhdnx-Y1riXqBcuXv_laE2U_PCGnQebliQ5Pc9s1mmYQ/s1600/IMG_3862.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Arthur and Barbara at their 70th wedding anniversary (photo: S. Anthony)</td></tr>
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<span class="s1">We met when I was a barely a teenager, and she was already a kind of celebrity.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">Precocious, frustrated and bored by what I saw as life in a weather-beaten provincial town on the edge of nowhere, my romantic teenage head was full of</span> the anti-heroes of Victorian literature. I couldn't have felt more trapped if I were Tess of the d’Urbervilles. Dreaming of being someone else, somewhere else, it was natural to be drawn to the theatre.</div>
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<span class="s1">Barbara held an open casting at the Basement Theatre, and I thought this was my chance. It was only a small part in a small play in a small venue, but I was desperate for her to cast me. </span></div>
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<span class="s1">From my point of view then, Newfoundland was a backwater and the only escape was into books: the literary tradition that we inherited from the English. Of course, there were mixed attitudes to “Brits” in St. John's back then… we had a grudging sense that they were superior to us in some way, whether or not they felt it themselves. As far as I was concerned however, Barbara Barrett’s Englishness only made her more intriguing.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">I had been acting out comedy skits since I was little, and had some non-speaking parts in youth productions by then. I liked to horse around and play class clown, mimic people and put on fake accents, and perform monologues of indiscriminate tasteless jokes for anyone who would listen. Like a lot of people attracted to the theatre, I felt like an outsider in my own life, and performing was a way to connect to people.</span></div>
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<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
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<span class="s1">Barbara’s audition was, of course, the real thing. She knew what she was doing and she knew what she wanted. She was direct and professional, but not self-important or heartless. For me, it was serious stuff at last. I felt that if she picked me, it meant I was good. Not an outsider or a weirdo… but a person of value. </span></div>
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<span class="s1">It’s hard to explain to people who are not in that <i>milieu</i> just what it means to get a part in a play. If you have never done it, it probably seems frivolous to you. You may think “actors” lack perspective, you may think they are neurotic or wrapped up in themselves. It’s all make-believe after all, so you might even find them slightly immature or juvenile. Maybe so. </span></div>
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<span class="s1">Maybe that’s also why Barbara Barrett was such a mother figure to so many.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">It's true. The theatre world is full of unusual people. Some are wounded and weird, and some just have way more imagination and energy than their dreary lives can carry. It’s an unusual impulse to make a spectacle of yourself, even if you do have talent. </span></div>
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<span class="s1">Working with Barbara was an antidote to all that inner turmoil… especially for me.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">The parents of most teenage daughters can only dream of being obeyed in the way I obeyed her. Teenagers crave the attention of adults they respect, and yet respect is not something that can be commanded. By commanding a teenager to respect you, you’ve already lost it. My parents must have been astonished to hear her say of me, “She takes direction very well.”</span></div>
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<span class="s1">Working in the theatre with Barbara, there was an outlet for all that energy and imagination that so many of us were looking for. There was a place to belong. We grew in confidence, felt less drama in our personal lives, and learned to get along with all kinds of people.</span><br />
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<span class="s1">There was work backstage as well, and I did several jobs on dozens of productions at the Arts and Culture Centre and at the Little Theatre at Memorial University. I even did a stint on a light board, and was the first to show my younger brother (now a well-respected Lighting Designer) how to cut a gel and hang a light. Like many others, his career started with her. </span></div>
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<span class="s1">My relationship with Barbara Barrett soon moved beyond the stage too. We had common interests in history and travel, foreign languages and all things English. She had so many stories to tell, and in that she had the best possible accompaniment in her husband Arthur. Every relationship has its ups and downs, but the two of them were the best advertisement for married life I have ever seen.</span></div>
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Arthur has a great memory for silly stories, and for years we swapped jokes on every occasion. I also had the good fortune to meet their dynamic son John. I entertained a slight crush on him for a little while, as a kind of dashing Arthur Junior.<span class="s1"></span></div>
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<span class="s1">When I moved away to study, Barbara and I became pen-pals. We used to say that if we had been of the same generation, we would have been best friends. As it happened, the affection between two women born decades apart resembled a kind of maternal bond, and I used to call her my “other mother”. In fact, that was why I never called her “Barbara”… I always called her “Mrs. B.”</span></div>
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<span class="s1">“Mrs. B.” always listened to me. She remembered what it was like to be young and headstrong, and jump feet first into an adventure.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">She knew what it was like to leave your home, and she knew what it felt like to be different. She always talked about Arthur’s family, especially his mother, and how she was made to feel welcome, connected and valued when she came to Newfoundland. I think that experience was what infused her love for the theatre… she got the chance to do the same for so many people who, for so many reasons, often felt they didn’t belong. </span></div>
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<span class="s1">She helped us all to tell a story, by being part of one.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">Over the years I spent lots of time in the house on Davidson Place, watched all the slide shows and sampled all the family meals. I have known all the pets, served as a conduit for the secret cigarette box, and had plenty of sleepovers there when Arthur was travelling. I was there overnight when we got the call that Connor was born. They showed me all the baby pictures of all the grandkids and crowed and boasted about John and Ena.</span></div>
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<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
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<span class="s1">Eventually I got married into a family where there were other UK connections, and the Barretts were welcomed into that extended family. Sadly, it was a tormented and unhealthy marriage, and the shame of failing compelled me to leave my provincial home town for good.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">In the decades since, the Barretts have always been part of my family and been part of what I miss about Newfoundland. Barbara always joked that my father was her “other sweetheart” and beat other women away from him when she had his ear.</span></div>
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<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
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<span class="s1">Now, dear Mrs. B is gone. </span></div>
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<span class="s1">Now I have heard the last of her wicked sense of humour. There are certain things nobody else would tease me about, and I will miss that especially.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">Mrs. B. had a unique place in my life. All those letters we wrote, and confidences we shared are orphans now. I have to remember all that without her, and that makes my world a lonelier place.</span></div>
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<span class="s1"><br /></span></div>
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Most people will remember her for her work in the theatre, her Order of Canada and her status as a War Bride, but she was also a strong and determined and loyal woman, who left nobody indifferent.</div>
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<span class="s1">My love and sympathy go to Arthur on the devastating loss of his companion of 70 years, and to John and Ena and their families.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">========== R.I.P. ===========</span></div>
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Mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03256998823947399911noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6764620.post-23024006953428421602014-04-20T01:57:00.000-07:002014-10-27T08:08:32.344-07:00Easter 2014<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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It’s another one of those holidays again. </div>
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First, there will be the memory-triggers... all the claptrap and external reminders. Who can avoid them? Then there will be happy memories. Lots of them. Like the elaborate charade I mounted on that Easter - the one I knew would be his last. I did the most convincing job of putting rabbit tracks around the house, staging an explosion of Smarties and broken chocolate eggs as proof that I had chased away a midnight intruder... ostensibly forgetting that we should have expected the Easter Bunny!</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Thomas and I when he was 2.</td></tr>
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Then there will be the giggle, as I remember the scrambling around on the Easter egg hunt. The fun of hiding things, the ignorance I feigned, and the way my heart melted when I saw the delight and surprise in his face.</div>
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And then, inevitably, will come the pain again. He is dead. He’s not coming back. I will never hear him call me “Mom” again. There is nothing at all I can ever do again to make him laugh.</div>
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This is all part of my life now. This very special pain belongs to me. This is my life story. It connects me to him and I want to feel it… even if it hurts. I don't actually want those feelings to go away. This is what it means to be a bereaved parent. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Thomas is buried in the shadow of St. Matthew's</td></tr>
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But then you come along. Dear, well-meaning, misunderstanding people, and try to ease it for us. You say things like, “you have an angel in heaven” or “he is always with you” or “he’s not really gone”, or “you’ll meet again”, or ask - have I tried this prayer or that chant or some other recipe you may have heard of. </div>
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Well, please don't.</div>
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To the parent who has lost a child, it is already difficult to relate this loss to anyone else. It’s one of the most profoundly isolating kinds of grief. In my case, with my family far away and my husband estranged, I experience these feelings almost totally alone.</div>
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I try to be grateful to people who are in my life and who say anything at all - just because they are there. Good for them, I think. How wonderful that people can have lives so ignorant of this sort of thing. The world's not <i>all</i> bad, after all.</div>
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I remember too, how plenty of people have not even been able to face me since my Thomas died. I don’t know their reasons, they may have sent cards or something at the time… I was too distressed to notice. Some of those people - like the man who was my boss - were probably just afraid of saying the wrong thing. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An Easter lily I painted in my grief.</td></tr>
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Of course - saying the right thing to a bereaved person is tough. </div>
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If given a choice, I would prefer the awkward, bumbling ignorance that tries to cheer me up over being treated like some psychological leper. So, yes... I suppose I would rather people try than turn away. </div>
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But please hear this. We bereaved parents have this in common - and that is that we don’t expect anything that anyone can say is going to make any difference to what we feel. There is nothing you can say … and there’s the lesson. <b>Say nothing</b>.</div>
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This Easter I don’t want to hear the pain of my loss brushed under the carpet again by promises of a post-apocalyptic reunion. Those promises are not happening now and now is when it’s hard. </div>
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What I want to say is this. Let the dead be dead, and let the living live. Don't talk to me about the ghost who is still with me or the angel or the spirit... Let me feel what I have to feel, in this moment, in the knowledge that this will pass. Let me experience this moment of grief, and then move on to the next thing. I will keep putting one foot in front of the other, with pain or without it. You've seen me do it, and you've seen other bereaved parents do it too.</div>
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Just because we have moments of pain does not mean our faith or belief systems have failed. <b>These beliefs help us cope with loss, but they don't shelter us from it. </b>"Pain is part of life, and anyone who tells you otherwise is selling something." *</div>
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I have survived something terrible, and all I want is a little respect for the size of that terrible thing. </div>
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Imagine you met someone who climbed Everest, and they told you it was hard. Then you answered, well I climbed the stairs and it was easy. That pointless non-sequitur illustrates what it feels like to a bereaved parent hearing well-meaning attempts at condolences.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAxRlBYzoDH04ax7mZTKn_lIgP31U-S22rIJGEa0RYBOmwRkGWISIAXLzobHgD93O2t64z0lbM231jHgBBTHLk_wirbcqcNsCuSam8PkuQfMNmtvAStPBflGb_m3plKTHxUKapbg/s1600/photo+(4)+copy.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: justify;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAxRlBYzoDH04ax7mZTKn_lIgP31U-S22rIJGEa0RYBOmwRkGWISIAXLzobHgD93O2t64z0lbM231jHgBBTHLk_wirbcqcNsCuSam8PkuQfMNmtvAStPBflGb_m3plKTHxUKapbg/s1600/photo+(4)+copy.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A life ring in Singapore, where I visit my niece.</td></tr>
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You will have your beliefs, as a Christian, Buddhist or Humanist, and let them comfort you when needed. Good for you. If that happens, I hope I will have the opportunity to stand by with you and wait. I hope my presence will show you that this feeling will pass. You will pick up your burden and walk again, and laugh and love and hope and work. That will happen with or without my preaching.</div>
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We bereaved parents will get on with life. Admire that if you want to, or pity it or pray for us, or do whatever your life needs you to do to confront the things you do not understand.</div>
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But don't feel the need to say stuff. Just be there. Stand on the shore until the wave breaks and then send out that little raft of hope ... Let us know there is a friend waiting. That there is kindness and love still to be felt in this world, even after unfathomable loss.</div>
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And that's my Easter message.</div>
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***</div>
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<i>"Probably no words can heal the heart of a mother who has lost her child. Someone truly wise, on meeting a woman whose child has died, might simply sit down at her side, and stay there not saying a word. Even if no words are exchanged, the warm reverberations of concern from deep in that person’s life will be felt." -- </i>Daiseku Ikeda (www.ikedaquotes.org)</div>
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* Westley, "The Princess Bride", 1987</div>
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Mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03256998823947399911noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6764620.post-57785091769419642742014-03-04T05:09:00.000-08:002014-11-12T23:37:09.080-08:00R.I.P. Wendy Walsh, First Member of the ISBA<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Practitioners and lovers of botanical art today remember one of Ireland's most-beloved artists with fondness and admiration.</div>
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Born in England in 1915, Wendy Walsh married an Irishman with whom she travelled the world before settling here in the early 1960s with him and their children.</div>
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A keen observer of nature, and a lover of plants and animals, she had no formal education. Self-taught in botany, zoology and art, she brought a loving and steady hand to the illustration of her subject matter. </div>
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She is most widely-known in Ireland for the volume of work in botanical art entitled "An Irish Florilegium". Throughout her long life, Wendy influenced the study and the popularisation of botanical art in Ireland, and many of our top botanical artists including Susan Sex and Holly Somerville had the special privilege of studying under her direct tutelage. </div>
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Wendy's exemplary contribution to the art was celebrated on 1st March 2014, when she was made the very first member of the newly-minted <a href="http://irishbotanicalartists.com/" target="_blank">Irish Society of Botanical Artists</a>. Her daughter Lesley Fennell of <a href="http://burtownhouse.ie/" target="_blank">Burtown House</a> was present to accept the award in her mother's honour. </div>
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To Lesley and all of Wendy's survivors - my sincere condolences.</div>
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<i><b>Addendum</b></i></div>
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<i>My first task as the new Vice-President of the ISBA was to make personal comments citing why I felt this honour was fitting. Here are the remarks I made.</i></div>
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<pre style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-size: 15.199999809265137px; line-height: 21.299999237060547px; white-space: normal;"><i>Unlike so many other people in this room who have been her friend, studied with her, and been influenced by her directly, I have no personal connection to Wendy Walsh.
I am, in fact, the next generation… And this is an illustration in itself of the impact Wendy Walsh has made in the Irish art world.
The people she taught are now teaching, and the people they are teaching – people like me – are enthusiastic and inspired and numerous enough to be here today setting up this new society.
My introduction to botanical art came through Oonagh Phillips, who invited me to attend her beautiful exhibition at Ardgillan Castle in 2004.
Oonagh brought me into a bookshop one morning after coffee and told me that I would simply have to buy one particular book if I was serious about botanical art. That book was, of course, the Irish Florilegium.
Nobody picks up that book without being astonished. The scale of the achievement is one thing, but the quality of the workmanship is exceptional, and the accuracy of it impeccable.
But what sets it apart is an even higher grade of input… Nobody could paint a branch of gorse that way if she didn't love it… Wendy Walsh conveys a sense of tender affection for the humblest plant and that is what makes her different.
There is a maternal and selfless hand on that brush. And this is why, I think, so many of us feel that we have connected with her on a kind of emotional level, even if we have never met her.
Few of us are going to make any money from botanical art. It is a labour of love, and I know this new society wants to nurture this and enrich each of our lives with the love of nature and the practice of art that Wendy was has inspired.
With no formal art education or training, Wendy Walsh has never been egotistical or precious about her work. She has never been competitive or territorial.
What has mattered to her is nature, and the redemption of the heart and mind that comes from contemplating the wonders of creation.
Wendy has always felt her heart was in the service of nature, and I think, a kind of praise-giving for its gifts.
Many contemporary botanical artists struggle to remember this particular benefit of our practice… We compare ourselves to one another, criticise ourselves, and put ourselves down… The Irish Society of Botanical Artists strives to downplay that tendency, and to follow the example of the art as well as the values of Wendy Walsh.
She has loved and honoured nature in the practice of her art, and never let ego come between herself and her paper. She made her last painting two years ago, at the age of 97.
We are very grateful that Wendy Walsh will be the very first member in the Irish Society of Botanical Artists, and we will strive to follow her example.
Marie Stamp
01 March 2014</i></pre>
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Mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03256998823947399911noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6764620.post-85854087493299097972013-03-24T13:19:00.000-07:002013-03-25T17:07:25.860-07:00Teenage Visionary Brings Bach to Life<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<b style="background-color: white; font-weight: bold; line-height: 21px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Don't Miss Killian Farrell's Production of a J.S. Bach Masterpiece </span></b></h2>
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<i style="background-color: white; font-style: italic; line-height: 21px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Monday 25 March at 7:30 pm, St. Pius X Church, Templeogue (tickets available at the door)</span></i></h2>
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Of all the things you might want to do of a cold and stormy March evening in Dublin, bathing in the radiant warmth of the sublime genius of Bach might not be the first thing that springs to mind... but it would be good for you.</div>
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<span style="line-height: 21px;">I know, because last night I experienced something tantamount to a private concert of exactly that, and it was transcendental.</span></div>
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It was young conductor Killian Farrell's dress rehearsal for Monday (25 March) night's concert of the “St. Matthew”, and I am singing in the choir.</div>
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Finally hearing all the parts together, with the angelic charm of the children's chorus and the confident professionalism of The Orchestra of St. Cecila, the music suddenly hit me like a big emotional wave.</div>
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Sure. You've heard it all before. It's the crucifixion story and it is steeped in a tradition you may have long rejected. The morbid fixation on that image may have troubled you in your childhood, and you may find it more comfortable to relate to the story of Siegfried or Orpheus than to something that was hammered into you as being somehow your fault.</div>
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But this is not a costumed play. It is a suite of sound.</div>
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This music is so expressive, it barely matters whether or not you understand the storyline or the libretto, which we are singing in German.</div>
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At least that's how it felt to me. Listening to the work from beginning to end last night, carried by the very best professional voices as guest soloists, led by the masterful <b><i>John Elwes</i></b>, I disassociated from our efforts to form the words and related instead to the entire musical story for the first time.</div>
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There is anger and disappointment, patience and hope, all in the most affecting vocal strains and instrumentation. I don't know why this is so, or how it happens, but I felt it all in a very real way.</div>
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Like many people, my own life has had its share of pathos, bereavement and betrayal just like in the Passion story. Like many people, I struggle with a head full of thoughts nobody wants to sit down to conversation with. In the way that so many of us want to avoid the crucifixion story, nobody really wants to hear how hard your life is or what sadness you carry around with you.</div>
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Paradoxically, we also all know that when our turn comes to carry a heavy load, it will only be made easier by the ability of others to relate to us. There is nothing more precious to any of us than relationship.</div>
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And there you have it. This is the illuminating effect of this particular musical experience – you will relate to it on a profound, non-verbal level. It will pick you up and share your burden. It will carry you off to a place of peace.</div>
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In this music, there are expressions of such emotion and beauty, you come to feel that Bach has actually understood what you feel in those moments when you engage with and accept your life, despite its hardships and setbacks.</div>
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Listening and participating in the performance last night, I felt the sense that someone else has understood what my life is like.</div>
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So if you are hesitant about coming out on a Monday night to a suburban church in Dublin to hear the crucifixion story set to music, consider that.</div>
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To top it all off, the whole thing is headed by an 18-year old visionary, who somehow has understood the power of this music at his tender age and inspired the entire production. If that's not life-affirming, I don't know what is.</div>
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I am very grateful to our conductor, young Killian Farrell, and to all the other volunteers who, like me, have been inspired to support his musical career in our efforts to produce this performance. Killian is a rare talent and leader that Ireland will one day be very proud of.</div>
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I am also really grateful for the opportunity to share in this stirring community experience with dozens of very generous people. We are all making ourselves simultaneously vulnerable in the context of a live performance, sharing common emotions, for our own benefit and that of others too.</div>
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It's real life, and I'm glad I'm part of it.</div>
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<i style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px;"><b style="background-color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">Read more about <a href="http://www.irishtimes.com/culture/music/musical-prodigy-takes-on-biggest-challenge-yet-1.1335479" target="_blank">Killian Farrell in the Irish Times</a> </span></b></i></div>
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<i>Dublin 24 March 2013</i></div>
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Mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03256998823947399911noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6764620.post-19584600983950852732013-02-01T04:15:00.001-08:002013-02-01T04:19:37.002-08:00Clutching at Straws<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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It's the first of February and the Feast of Saint Brigid of Kildare here in Ireland. In her attempt to convert a pagan chieftain to Christianity on his deathbed, it is said she grabbed up some rushes and formed this simple cross for him to cling to.<br />
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It was a good idea, and this little emblem has provided inspiration to the Irish for hundreds of years.<br />
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We all need things to cling to. Straws, ideas, dreams, plans, hopes... without them we humans can experience profound isolation, sadness and great suffering. We can plunge into this type of self-destruction so easily, to the point where we can't bear to live any more. That is what happened recently to poor Andrew C., and my heart goes out to his parents and sister who must struggle to survive him for the rest of their days.<br />
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No matter what you think of the story of Brigid and the chieftain, the paradigm is solid. Cling to something, no matter how flimsy, <i>just to get you to the next thing</i>.<br />
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The trickiest thing is to cling to a story that is healthy for you. Not a story that explains all the sadness, loss, illness, failure and betrayal in the world as being <i>your fault</i>.<br />
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January presented me with a new, major loss to cope with. I have worked <i>obsessively</i> to find the reasons for that loss within myself. I developed lots of very reasonable, prove-able theories, and identified lots of weaker qualities in myself that can probably not be changed. I expected that finding the right answer would make it all bearable. Trouble is, none of the theories I developed have done anything but cost me sleep and bile. It still hurts.<br />
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Adieu, January! Today I am thinking about that fragile little cross of rushes, and looking for a set of different straws to cling to. And that search for something different is a tiny seed of hope itself... and the key to feeling better soon.<br />
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<i style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.1875px;">Lá Fhéile Bhríde</i><span style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.1875px;"> </span>Mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03256998823947399911noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6764620.post-9027782783261663842012-11-14T03:52:00.002-08:002012-12-16T03:36:33.421-08:00Caravaggio<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<i>A few days ago I visited the Palazzo Barberini in Rome, where I had the thrill of seeing a few more original works by Caravaggio every bit as stunning as "our one" in Dublin. Here is a re-run of a piece I wrote about these impressions 2 years ago in Vulgo magazine</i></h4>
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Working on a Screenplay on Caravaggio, by Marie Stamp</h2>
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<span class="meta_date" style="margin-right: 5px;">Posted <a href="http://www.vulgo.ie/2010/12/" style="color: #555555; font-family: 'Droid Sans', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, serif; font-style: normal; outline: none 0px; text-decoration: initial; text-transform: uppercase; word-spacing: -1px;" title="Tuesday, December 7th, 2010, 9:45 pm">DEC 7 2010</a></span> <span class="meta_author" style="margin-right: 5px;">by <a href="http://www.vulgo.ie/author/marie-stamp/" style="color: #555555; font-family: 'Droid Sans', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, serif; font-style: normal; outline: none 0px; text-decoration: initial; text-transform: uppercase; word-spacing: -1px;">MARIE STAMP</a></span> <span class="meta_category" style="margin-right: 5px;">in <a href="http://www.vulgo.ie/category/voices/" rel="tag" style="color: #555555; font-family: 'Droid Sans', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, serif; font-style: normal; outline: none 0px; text-decoration: initial; text-transform: uppercase; word-spacing: -1px;">VOICES</a></span> <span class="meta_comments" style="margin-right: 5px;">with <a href="http://www.vulgo.ie/voices/caravaggio-at-the-national-gallery-of-ireland/#comments" style="color: #555555; font-family: 'Droid Sans', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, serif; font-style: normal; outline: none 0px; text-decoration: initial; text-transform: uppercase; word-spacing: -1px;" title="Comment on Working on a Screenplay on Caravaggio, by Marie Stamp">11 COMMENTS</a></span></div>
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In Dublin you never know who you’re going to meet. You might see Ron Woods in the supermarket, or Van Morrison riding a bike. You might be having your school lunch in a dorm covered with grimy old paintings that are lost masterpieces worth millions. The great and the ordinary co-exist comfortably in this little old town.</div>
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And so it is that one of the greatest paintings in the history of art finds its way to the National Gallery of Ireland.</div>
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It’s a dramatic piece of work. Here’s the scene: you are in the wrong place at the wrong time. It is the middle of night. You hear the the sound of metal against metal, boots on the street. What do you see? Moonlight glints on blackened, armoured figures. There is a murmur, a scuffle. Someone screams. It’s dark and you feel vulnerable. Are they coming for you? It’s a dramatic, awful moment of violation, and the shameless perpetrators are counting on the cover of night.</div>
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And then, in a small flicker of light, a great injustice is revealed for all the world to see. But it’s not a camera that catches the criminal in the act. Michelangelo Merisi da Caravaggio, aged only 31, has painted himself thrusting a strained but vital beam of light into the scene, bearing witness to the arrest of the most beloved man on earth. With cinematographic panache, this outrageous, iconoclastic young genius has changed the course of European painting forever.</div>
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His photographic flair was astonishing to his contemporaries, who were more likely to prefer unnaturally posed figures in allegorical scenes. He died after a short and debauched life 400 years ago in 1610, leaving scores of lesser artists scrambling to copy and imitate him. The dubious homage of countless “fakes” that followed has thrown many collectors off the scent of the authentic master, but even the tribute paintings of the prolific Dutch “caravaggistes” have more in common with our contemporary art of storyboarding than anything that went before.</div>
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“The Taking of Christ” in the collection of the National Gallery of Ireland is one of only about five dozen known works of Caravaggio that have survived. Its discovery by Sergio Benedetti (the gallery’s Italian specialist) two decades ago has catapulted this modest public institution into the big leagues. There is a humorous nod to the painting’s undiscovered history in a Dublin monastery in the film “Ordinary Decent Criminal” (2000) starring Kevin Spacey, but the truth of the find is not as the film suggests.</div>
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Benedetti told us the story himself in one of the Gallery’s free public lectures this month. It was 1990 and he was curating an exhibition of works by artists who followed Caravaggio’s example. He went to inspect a work purported to be a very good copy in the possession of the Dublin Jesuits on Leeson Street. Through the grime and botched restoration attempts, he still recognised something undeniably masterful. You will too, when you see this painting in context.</div>
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I had the pleasure of queueing for an hour in the heat and paying €12 to look at the collection in the Galleria Borghese in Rome earlier this year, and it is when you look at all the other so-called masterpieces and compare them with Caravaggio, that you realise there is no comparison.</div>
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And yet, here in Dublin, where we are not dripping in art like they are in the Eternal City, you can stumble upon this and other remarkable items for free at the National Gallery of Ireland. And there are still surprises in store.</div>
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Retired after 35 years at the Gallery, Benedetti has been commissioned to produce a catalogue of the Gallery’s collection of Italian paintings. He confesses he will never really be able to give up trying to solve the mystery of the unattributed works, particularly the one of Cain Killing Abel.</div>
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I am working on my own screenplay for that one.</div>
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<strong>Marie Stamp, a Dublin resident from St. John’s, Newfoundland, Canada, attended Sergio Benedtti’s free talk on Caravaggio at the National Gallery of Ireland on December 7th, 2010. For more information on free events at the National Gallery visit www.nationalgalleryofireland.ie</strong></div>
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Mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03256998823947399911noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6764620.post-72354006490522899492012-10-25T01:22:00.001-07:002015-05-10T03:21:21.305-07:00JUBILATE Choral Project<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
(First published on www.vulgo.ie)<br />
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<b><u>Marie Stamp on singing Bach's St. John Passion, conducted by teenage prodigy Killian Farrell.</u></b><br />
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Two years ago a friend invited me to join a small neighbourhood chamber choir. He thought it would help ease the pain of the terrible bereavement I had suffered if I got out of the house, and he probably already knew that singing might help relieve the pain in my chest.<br />
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And it’s true. There is something about the use of your own bellows to vibrate your own vocal chords that affects the feeling around your heart. There is something about creating a massive wave of sound with other people that makes you feel stronger. There is something heady about gulping great gasps of oxygen. Singing is good for you.<br />
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There is nothing new in that observation, of course. The only remarkable thing about this notion is that I ever forgot it at all.<br />
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My bereavement left me so painfully sad that I couldn’t bear to interact with people. In the little church next to where I live, I gravitated to the throbbing organ loft to sit with Edna. She too was recently bereaved, and very understanding.<br />
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Edna is the talented and devout organist at the C of I church across the street from me. On an average Sunday, there are rarely more than a dozen people to plough their way through the New English Hymnal to the powerful strains of Edna’s unfaltering accompaniment, but singing in church is what Protestants are all about.<br />
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No matter what your beliefs, I swear that for a closet singer, the chance to belt out four or five hymns with a big breathy church organ backing you is too good to miss. It doesn’t matter how well you sing, or how loudly. It only matters that you contribute to that roof-shaking sound.<br />
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One Sunday in September last year, Edna asked me if I would like to join a choir in a Catholic church in Templeogue. They were planning a special Easter concert to celebrate the 50th anniversary of their parish. I have to admit to some serious hesitation.<br />
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It’s not only that I am an ex-Catholic. Templeogue is a fair distance from where I live, and of what possible interest was their church anniversary to me? For Edna’s sake though, I thought I would tag along, hoping I wouldn’t be roped in by a few desperately zealous parishioners or some bossy old priest.<br />
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I was greeted instead by a skinny kid. Killian Farrell was 16, and he handed me a 270-page brick of a score, heavily peppered with black dots. Johann Sebastian Bach’s “Johannes-Passion”. Real music! I felt I was being asked to learn the phone book.<br />
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I shuffled over to the alto section, where a few other women were squinting at the dots, probably feeling as old and overwhelmed as I did, and wondering if that skinny kid was nuts.<br />
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If you think teenagers nowadays cannot emit a full sentence without using the word “like” at least twice, or if you have trouble getting your teenager to speak at all, take heart. This guy took command of us like an old hand to a puppet.<br />
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By the end of my first rehearsal, I knew I had met a precocious musical talent, and that being part of the choir that launches his career was going to be a rare and wonderful opportunity. When he found out I could speak German, his boyish face lit up in its characteristic blush. He appealed to me to coach the group on pronunciation, and I was smitten.<br />
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I won’t pretend that it is completely unselfish of me. Killian is only four years older than my son would have been, had he survived. He appealed to some maternal impulse in me… that familiar maternal impulse that is bigger than me, that makes me try and try harder to be brave. I was part of something bigger than myself again.<br />
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This is what choral singing really is, I think. Something like a bat shrieking out beyond its blindness, the collective sighs of the choir reverberate back through you and you suddenly have the sense that you know where you are in the universe.<br />
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There is nothing to take away the pain of losing someone so important in your life, not even religion. But there is some relief in being part of something bigger than yourself if you can find it, and that relief can come as a joyful surprise.<br />
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By Marie Stamp</div>
Mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03256998823947399911noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6764620.post-21794015758948710732012-08-29T01:49:00.000-07:002015-08-30T08:51:56.722-07:00Starting Back at Fighting Words<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I've just signed up for two workshops next week at Fighting Words. I've really missed it! This piece I published last year (in the wonderful VULGO.IE online magazine) sums up why...<br />
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Being an illustrator at Roddy Doyle's Fighting Words, by Marie Stamp</h2>
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<span class="meta_date" style="margin-right: 5px;">Posted <a href="http://www.vulgo.ie/2011/03/" style="color: #555555; font-family: 'Droid Sans', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, serif; font-style: normal; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; text-decoration: none; text-transform: uppercase; word-spacing: -1px;" title="Tuesday, March 29th, 2011, 9:41 am">MAR 29 2011</a></span> <span class="meta_author" style="margin-right: 5px;">by <a href="http://www.vulgo.ie/author/vulgo/" style="color: #555555; font-family: 'Droid Sans', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, serif; font-style: normal; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; text-decoration: none; text-transform: uppercase; word-spacing: -1px;">VULGO</a></span> <span class="meta_category" style="margin-right: 5px;">in <a href="http://www.vulgo.ie/category/features/" rel="tag" style="color: #555555; font-family: 'Droid Sans', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, serif; font-style: normal; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; text-decoration: none; text-transform: uppercase; word-spacing: -1px;">FEATURES</a>, <a href="http://www.vulgo.ie/category/voices/" rel="tag" style="color: #555555; font-family: 'Droid Sans', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, serif; font-style: normal; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; text-decoration: none; text-transform: uppercase; word-spacing: -1px;">VOICES</a></span> <span class="meta_comments" style="margin-right: 5px;">with <a href="http://www.vulgo.ie/features/being-an-illustrator-at-roddy-doyles-fighting-words-by-marie-stamp/#comments" style="color: #555555; font-family: 'Droid Sans', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, serif; font-style: normal; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; text-decoration: none; text-transform: uppercase; word-spacing: -1px;" title="Comment on Being an illustrator at Roddy Doyle's Fighting Words, by Marie Stamp">15 COMMENTS</a></span></div>
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<span id="790_img_1"><a class="blog_index_image_load" href="http://www.vulgo.ie/wp-content/uploads/2011/03/cheese-and-toilet.jpg" rel="prettyPhoto" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; background-image: url(http://www.vulgo.ie/wp-content/themes/Insignia/images/assets/zoom.png); background-origin: initial; background-position: 50% 50%; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; color: #555555; display: block; height: 390px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; position: relative; text-decoration: none !important; width: 730px;" title="Being an illustrator at Roddy Doyle's Fighting Words, by Marie Stamp"><img alt="Cheese And Toilet" class="hover_fade_js" src="http://www.vulgo.ie/wp-content/uploads/2011/03/cheese-and-toilet.jpg" height="208" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; opacity: 1; vertical-align: bottom;" title="Being an illustrator at Roddy Doyle's Fighting Words, by Marie Stamp" width="400" /></a></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #555555; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 20px; word-spacing: 1px;">I have been drawing all my life. It started with the usual baby doodles, and soon progressed to the princesses, fashion models, and horses that populate the imaginations of so many little girls.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #555555; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 20px; word-spacing: 1px;">By the time I was seven I had written and illustrated my own little “books” of folded sheets of cheap paper – thrillers about evil magic witches and love stories about choosing the wrong boyfriend.</span></div>
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Under the influence of the nuns who taught me, I soon gravitated to a more gruesome fascination with saints and stigmata, and began to illustrate my religion homework. I occasionally received commissions from certain sisters, to draw a poster to decorate the classroom, or a picture of some beatified individual for their own personal devotion.</div>
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My drawings always looked like what they represented, and although I was confident about my ability to draw, I have long been confused as to whether or not that makes me an artist.</div>
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I went to an art college in France, and dropped out after the first term. Nobody taught us technique, and the self-indulgent ego trips of my classmates bored me to tears. I concluded that if this was art, I definitely wasn’t an artist. And so I went back to doodling.</div>
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Recently my life has changed and I have been obliged to retire from my career. It has been a difficult transition, and the loss of identity has been problematic. Then, about a year ago, some friends of mine told me about <em>Fighting Words</em>, the creative writing centre for schoolchildren established by Roddy Doyle on Dublin’s north side. I heard how they were helping children to make their own little books, the way I had done so many eons ago. They were recruiting for volunteers, and soon I had signed up.</div>
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Although I was prepared to help serve the tea or stack the books, I confessed that I would also be happy to try my hand at the illustrations. The first time I went to observe a workshop, the scheduled illustrator was a no-show, and there I was, shoved in at the deep end!</div>
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There is no time to be embarrassed, no time to worry, only the few minutes during which you must think on your feet. How will you draw a cheeseburger who wants to take over the world?</div>
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The other volunteers tease out the story ideas from the class as a group, and the illustrator has only a few minutes to come up with images that will concretise their ideas and inspire them to complete the narrative when they move to individual seatwork for the remainder of the session. I have had to draw a ghost who takes over the body of a beaver, a buffalo who turns into a mouse, a tap-dancing alien and his dog, a talking marshmallow in “Elvis” hair, a fish who is allergic to water… it’s mad, it’s hilarious, and I love it.</div>
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I go there once or twice a week now, and I enjoy my ability to draw more than I ever have done in my life. It now has value and purpose, and what better reward is there for any of life’s labours?</div>
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Some of the children are so thankful, so wide-eyed and appreciative of anyone doing things for them…! Their gratitude and delight at <em>Fighting Words </em>is very affecting.</div>
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Working as a volunteer illustrator at <em>Fighting Words</em> has revived my desire to entertain the eye. I no longer see it as a selfish or trivial pastime, but as an occupation I might engage in with some success. I have taken up drawing again, and am developing a love of botanical watercolour.</div>
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These bright-faced little ones have reminded me of the witches and princesses of my own young imagination. Like all of us, they will lose their innocence to the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune… but spending time with children again I am reminded of what it means to have spontaneous fun.</div>
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It has finally occurred to me that art does not have to confound or startle or challenge the intellect. It can entertain, divert and relax people as well. Above all, it is simply a “medium”, a bridge between people, a way to share a feeling about life and the world we live in.</div>
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I have to thank one little girl who approached me at a <em>Fighting Words</em> workshop one morning. “Miss, are you a real artist?” she asked me. I laughed, and said, “Yes”! Her little companion asked, “Are you FAMOUS?” “No,” I sighed… “not yet.”</div>
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For more information on Roddy Doyle’s <strong>Fighting Words</strong>, including how to volunteer, visit their <a href="http://www.fightingwords.ie/" style="color: #555555; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">website</a> www.fightingwords.ie</div>
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<a href="http://www.vulgo.ie/wp-content/uploads/2011/03/hamster-and-unicorn-band.jpg" style="color: #555555; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; text-decoration: none;"><img alt="" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-1592" src="http://www.vulgo.ie/wp-content/uploads/2011/03/hamster-and-unicorn-band.jpg" height="354" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px;" title="hamster and unicorn band by Marie Stamp" width="500" /></a></div>
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Mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03256998823947399911noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6764620.post-29094639826169295722012-08-28T04:15:00.002-07:002013-02-04T01:06:55.185-08:00Goethe-Institut Choir resumes tonight after the summer break<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #17365d; font-family: Tahoma, Verdana, Helvetica, Arial; font-size: xx-small;">Here's a piece that was originally published at the wonderful <a href="http://www.vulgo.ie/" target="_blank">www.vulgo.ie</a> about performing Mozart's Requiem with the GIC. Vulgo is dedicated to contemporary art and culture in Ireland. </span></h4>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #555555; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 20px; word-spacing: 1px;"> THE TRUTH ABOUT MOZART'S "REQUIEM"...</span></h2>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="color: red; font-family: Tahoma, Verdana, Helvetica, Arial;"><b>“Neither a lofty degree of intelligence nor imagination nor both together go to the making of genius. Love, love, love, that is the soul of genius.” — Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (1756-91)</b></span></span></h2>
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<a href="http://www.vulgo.ie/features/mozarts-requiem-charity-concert-in-st-patricks-cathedral-by-goethe-institute-chorister-marie-stamp/attachment/mozartsrequiem-2/" rel="attachment wp-att-3642" style="color: #555555; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; outline: none 0px; text-decoration: initial;"><img alt="" class="alignnone size-medium wp-image-3642" src="http://www.vulgo.ie/wp-content/uploads/2012/04/MozartsRequiem1-300x225.jpg" height="225" style="border-width: 0px;" title="Mozart'sRequiem" width="300" /></a></div>
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, who died as precociously as he lived, is one of the most recognisable names in music.</div>
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His work is such a pervasive staple in the worldwide concert repertoire, that he may even be suffering from slight over-exposure … even some two and a quarter centuries after his death.</div>
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Mozart is, I think, so familiar that we take him for granted. And yet there is much about him that escapes our attention. Like a victim of his own celebrity, Mozart the man has been somewhat eclipsed by the myth.</div>
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For the generation of film-goers who saw Tom Hulce’s inextinguishable interpretation in “Amadeus” in 1984, Mozart was a prankster who liked scatological humour and married his landlady’s penniless daughter for love. That much, I believe, is true.</div>
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In the film, Amadeus is worked to death by a jealous nemesis, who blackmails him into producing his final composition, a “Requiem”. Irreverent and capricious, Hulce’s Mozart died ignominiously, too poor to afford a funeral, and dumped in a common grave. This is where the facts of the story are not quite so theatrical.</div>
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Mozart’s last days were certainly traumatic, because his final illness (most likely rheumatic fever) was misunderstood by his contemporaries. The cause of his illness was so mysterious, that some kind of food poisoning was suspected, but that was not likely the case.</div>
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In his final months, Mozart had been very popular and very busy, and working on a commission for an anonymous client. It was, in fact, the eccentric Count von Walsegg who wanted a Requiem to perform at the anniversary of his wife’s death. Walsegg was in the habit of claiming to be the author of several works that he commissioned in this way through intermediaries.<br />
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Then as now, musicians and artists had to work hard to provide for their families, and Mozart was tireless. His “Requiem Mass in D Minor” was to be the last of more than 600 compositions of his career. He was aware of that cruel irony as he became more and more seriously ill.</div>
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But in those days of course there was no financial security to be drawn from copyright protection or life insurance. He would have been concerned about providing for his family and obtaining the final payment for this work and so he never stopped. He is known to have worked on this music on the very day he died.</div>
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Perhaps he was thinking sadly about leaving his young wife and 3 small children. Perhaps he was thinking sadly of the other 3 little ones who had died so young. While we can never know his emotional state while he was working on this piece, we do know that the reason he never abandoned it was his desire to provide for those dearest to him.</div>
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Mozart’s burial was in accordance with the local custom at the time. Although if it does seem quite disrespectful to us, it was not an indication of lack of esteem.</div>
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The young widow sought help from Mozart’s friends to tidy up and complete the final manuscript. Large benefit concerts were held in his memory to assist his young family, and the landlady’s clever daughter was able to make a living on the strength of her husband’s reputation and the enduring popularity of his music.</div>
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I think that probably all of us who have performed this music over the centuries can sense that it really is infused with tenderness. Whether it is the love of Mozart for his family or the love of his grieving friends who completed the work, love is definitely a big part of this musical farewell.</div>
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Mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03256998823947399911noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6764620.post-22271441066240627592012-04-05T05:16:00.001-07:002012-04-05T05:16:48.133-07:00Choral Concert<br />
Over 100 of us have been preparing for months for an experience that will last only a couple of hours. We are going to transform one of Ireland’s oldest and most iconic buildings, on the site where Saint Patrick himself baptized the Irish, into a pulsation of human sound.<br />
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On Friday, the 6th of April at 7:30 pm, yes – that is Good Friday -- we will perform Mozart’s famous “Requiem” with guest Irish soloist Virginia Kerr. You can listen to clip of us rehearsing, and hear what Virginia has to say about the experience of partaking in this enduring auditory feast by following this link: <a href="http://vimeo.com/39781727">http://vimeo.com/39781727</a><br />
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This was the last music Mozart ever wrote, and the great genius was inspirational to the very end. Come and transported from the cold and gloom of Good Friday to a sense of peace and connection with your fellow music lovers.<br />
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To read something I wrote about Mozart's Requiem on vulgo.ie, follow this link: <a href="http://www.vulgo.ie/features/mozarts-requiem-charity-concert-in-st-patricks-cathedral-by-goethe-institute-chorister-marie-stamp/">http://www.vulgo.ie/features/mozarts-requiem-charity-concert-in-st-patricks-cathedral-by-goethe-institute-chorister-marie-stamp/</a><br />
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You will also be supporting the valuable work of the Carmichael Centre, for whom this concert is the major fundraiser of the year<br />
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Tickets are available at the door (come early) or through Ticketmaster http://www.ticketmaster.ie/event/18004850B89877B5?artistid=849627&majorcatid=10002&minorcatid=12<br />
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<br /></div>Mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03256998823947399911noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6764620.post-66620654854123803292011-10-06T05:55:00.000-07:002012-12-16T03:31:38.423-08:00The Lady of Baltimore<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Here's a link to a piece I published in "Ireland of the Welcomes" recently. It's a funny story with a historical connection. It's on page 39 and it's called "The Lady of Baltimore"...<br />
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<a href="http://www.cenveomobile.com/issue/28767/2">http://www.cenveomobile.com/issue/28767/2</a></div>
Mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03256998823947399911noreply@blogger.com0