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Vantage Point



 She sat in her chair in the living room.  It was the right structure so that she felt supported and aligned.
The vantage point from her chair was and still is ever changing. Through the picture window the flowers budded, the leaves fell and snow drifted, day in and day out.  In the evenings she would watch Jamie Oliver and Great British/Canadian Baking Show with my dad, in the mornings, she would have a coffee and make a plan for the day.  It was the place she returned to time and time again throughout the day , for a rest, for a phone conversation, to read. Through the months of her illness, she continued to recruit volunteers, write letters about causes she cared about, write notes to friends, check Facebook and plan meals to try from that spot.  She and dad did a lot of adventerous cooking during that period and still brought food to share with neighbours who were going through something or needing extra help.

As her illness weakened her , gradually her world got smaller. She was still a voracious reader and curiosity channeled many an online search and inquiry, but she found it harder to walk and travel around.  The chair and that vantage point became an intersection point where we could come to her and share what was happening to us out there in the world, beyond that window pane.




Last weekend, I sat in her chair and looked out through those windows.  
The milk weed has been devoured by migrating monarchs, the garden is winding down, a few red leaves are appearing and the sun is changing its angle.

The vantage point continues to be a place to rest, visit, dream and most importantly, be with her for a little while.


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