Yesterday evening a thought wandered into my mind that amazed me very much at how demonstrative it was of our old spirituality. That old way and thought was so connected and sensitive to the spirit world.

I remembered a time when I was just a cute little boy seeing and hearing dogs cry and howl when a member of the community died. This was a time when we didn’t have medical services such as we have today. The dogs seemed to be sensitive to what was happening around the community and therefore knew when the spirit of the person that died left. Thinking back on it, I think it brought us all comfort hearing the manifestation of the spirit world as it received our loved one into that world.

Now the dogs wander around the community having had their sensitivity of things spiritual bereft from them. Every so often though, they still demonstrate they haven’t altogether lost this ability, and it makes us warm knowing from them our loved one is where they should be. When my mother died over 10 years ago, one of the dogs she cared for came to her funeral wake. I believe to give its last respects. The people who were there just left her alone and didn’t bother her. One of my sisters also said that eagles came that day to fly over where her remains were.

I missed my mother when these remembrance came yesterday.

As we, as the first people of this land, begin in ernest to retake who we are, our ways, our lands, our self determination, let us also not forget to reestablish our spirituality by strengthening our friendship with the world around us and use it to lift up the name of Jesus our Creator. The people who came from elsewhere can join us in this.

Amen..

Rutanya,

I saw the Northern Lights dancing

One night long ago, as I gazed upon the northern lights,

my grandmother told me there was great joy in the land of the spirits.

“That is why the northern lights are dancing,” she said.

“There is great joy because someone has come home.”

Rutanya,

I saw the Northern Lights dancing

I saw them dancing the night you passed from here to there.

Your great-grandfather must have been so happy to see you.

I’ll bet he held on to you for a long time.

I know your Auntie Vicky danced as she saw you.

She was always a good babysitter. She will look after you.

I know that I know Jesus danced and shouted as he laid his eyes on you.

He once said, “Suffer the little children to come unto me.”

You are in his arms,…safe forever.

Rutanya,

I saw the Northern Lights dancing

My dear little Granddaughter, sometime in the nights ahead,

the northern lights are going to dance as I come to that place where you are.

I will be so happy to see you again.

I’m going to hold your hand as I stand face to face with Jesus,

the one who made it all possible for me to see you again.

We will forever be in the presence of our Heavenly Father.

Rutanya,

I saw the Northern Lights dancing

I saw the Northern Lights dancing

I will see you again

(I wrote this poem as a memorial to my granddaughter Rutanya Semple.

Rutanya passed away September 18, 2002 at 2 years of age. She is sadly missed by her grandmothers, Jordina Semple and Irene Winter, parents Titus and Michelane Semple, foster parents Rory and Anita Anderson, sisters Leona LeGarde and Heaven Semple, various aunts, uncles, and cousins.)

I was diagnosed with diabetes when I was 45 years old, 22 years ago.

I couldn’t accept that was to be the way my life was to be. Up to the point, I’d witnessed family and friends suffering from this illness. Many ended up dying in their late 40’s and early 50’s in cruel manner that diabetes brings on.

I determined I wanted my health to remain with me for a long time past my early 50’s. I wanted to remain to see my grandchildren to grow up into adulthood. So I fought.

In this determination, I had a good example to fall on. Jordina (my wife) was only 32 when she first had breast cancer and a second time some 5 years later. I saw her put up a determination to survive odds that were against her. Titus, Agnes, and William were just young kids. This is who gave her the determination to not give up. She wanted to be around to see them grow up.

Anyway, she is still here at 66 and has witnessed the presence of grandchildren, and now even great grandchildren.

Back to my standoff with diabetes.

When the doctor told me my diagnosis, I fell into a funk for sometime.

Then I told myself to quit feeling sorry for myself.

From that point I started exercising and eating well, or at least not to eat so much ( did you know that all your body needs to function well is only a quarter of what you eat everyday?).

At the point of starting this regime, I didn’t really believe it was going to work, but I was willing to try.

It worked.

My A1C reading of 12 went down to 5.6 in 3 months. This meant I was no longer diabetic. My body had adjusted itself to my lifestyle effort to be well.

It stayed that way for years afterward.

But as one’s body ages, it’s functions start to decline. Diabetes returned 3 years ago but not as aggressively as it did 20 plus years ago. Today I manage it with medication my doctor prescribes and plus, I continue exercising and eating well. Eating well is a challenge at times as I enjoy eating cake with my grandchildren from time to time.

Today, my A1C reading stays around 6, which my doctor says is in the normal range. But it is with the help of medication that I am able to do this.

Also, today both Jordina and I have gone deeper into our faith and walk with Jesus the Christ. This has helped us to realize that our time on earth will be ending soon. It has helped us get past the denial of it, as most us have a tendency to do. We are at peace with it. There is no stressing over life issues anymore as we believe in the promises Jesus has made for our eternal future and that everything will be alright.

We wake up each day thankful we are still here and go on about our day. Me going to Starbucks and her going to Value Village.

Can anyone say amen.

There is so much fucking drama around me. In front is a lovers spat with swear words like “bitch” “bastard” flying back and forth.

Right beside me is a woman crying on her phone.

“Give me a fucking break”, I said to myself.

It wouldn’t have been so bad if I could follow that drama but I didn’t understand a word of Spanish at all.

Goodness gracious….aarrhhh.

It is now 11:56 pm and we are still on the tarmac. The pilot announced it would be another 10 minutes before we take off. Something about air traffic control switching runways for us. It would take them that long to re-program the aircraft’s computer. I guess we are flown by a computer. Its not like the old days when pilots used to fly by the seat of his pants.

The lovers quarrel seems to have died down. Still the woman was just itching for a fight but the guy was trying very hard to ignore her and focusing on his book. Poor guy.

It is now 12:39 am and the plane has now leveled off and the seat belt signs are off. It will be 6 hours by the time I get off the plane in Toronto. It’ll take me time to go through immigration but once I’m through, I’ll be able to get Starbucks coffee.

I hear a gentle snore from my petite seat mate, the one that was sobbing and snorting on her phone when we were still on the tarmac. She had snot swinging from her nostrils then.

The lovers quarrel picked up again. The woman is hissing and bitching while the man continues to ignore her. He has put his chair back to try to sleep. The woman pushes her face close to his and. snarls, “You don’t give a shit do you?” He’s now turned away from her but she still yaps away at him. She is doing this in a hissing whisper but I can still hear her.

It is 3:38 am now on this airbus that’s barreling 1000 km/hr towards Toronto.

We are all awake now as the flight attendants are serving us breakfast. They all seem to be pretty, except for the one serving our aisle. She has a large beak.

“Pancakes or eggs” she says.

I wonder if that’s a fake smile she wears. It could be as fake as the eyelashes she wears.

As we are being served breakfast, my mind fucks off 40 years back to another Air Canada flight.

Picture this. An old guy, looks to be Polish or Russian, certainly from across the ocean somewhere, is eating a meal served to him by a pretty flight attendant like we are now on this Airbus I am on. As he finishes up he picks up this small cup container of ceasar salad dressing, he looks at it, shakes it. It looks like he is not sure what it is. So pulls it open, uses his finger to get a bit of it and looks around and then tastes it. He likes the taste, looks around some more and proceeds to devour his tasty discovery. I giggled under my breath as I made this observation of this old man. I don’t think he ever knew I was sneaking peeks at him as he slurped away at the ceaser salad dressing. I’m guessing he had never had a ceaser salad before.

He is probably dead by now, that old English man (I was going to say that old Polish man but I can change it because I am writing this story) on Air Canada from 40 years ago.The ants and other bugs that made a full course meal out of him six feet under the ground over a period of several months are certainly all dead now as well.

“Yummy, yummy, yummy,” the ants and bugs probably chirped in a musical chorus as they ate without a ceaser salad.

Another hour and half and we should be in Toronto. The lovers quarrel is quiet. And the petite seat mate has gone back to sleep after her meal.

It is 10:40 am and I’m now in Thunder Bay. Feeling ok even after staying awake for the past 24 hours.

#douglassemple

I’d forgotten how therapeutic exercise can be.

I had a lot of things happen to me that prevented me from regular exercising. I had an accident that busted my side, arm and leg and left me bed ridden for a few weeks. No broken bones fortunately. Then I had surgery that required long recovery time for some reason, maybe I didn’t listen to instructions to take care myself lol. Then covid jumped on me even after 3 vaccines which left me with after effects that are still with me. After that, my stepfather passed away which knocked me off my feet. I’d thought he would always be around. There were other losses that seemed to come one right after another, no time to really finish grieving.

All this combined, I fell into some sort of funk which was hard to come out of. I could not focus on work, I would look at documents but couldn’t read them. I would try to sit at my computer to write but I just could not get focused.

I’m sure I am describing what many of you have experienced or are experiencing as well. No mojo. No super powers whatsoever.

Anyway, going back to my trainer did something for me yesterday. I feel my super powers are coming back. Exercise does that, you help your body to make endorphins that heal you. I was telling the trainer that I should have come to see her in the middle of my depression then it might have not been so bad.

If you are undergoing a long sadness, go outside and do some exercise, even a short 20 minute walk will do wonders for you.

May my Jesus bless you in all ways. Amen!

#douglassemple #exerciseismedicine #exercise