Everyone needs a quiet place just for themselves where they can plan, remember, and even on occasion, daydream. It helps if you can also be productive or creative when you feel so inclined but  where you can do absolutely nothing if that is your choice of the moment.

My gardening work bench is exactly that. Tucked away in a corner of the shop my husband created when we first moved into this house it has  provided me with an untold number of hours in which I can plan my gardens, work with my plants, clean  and freshen up bird houses and feeders, and other assorted tasks which are related to my lifelong love for nature. It also provides a haven to which I can retreat when I feel the need for solitude. It's placement is particularly pleasing as it's niche is on the back wall  which features a large window  and the back door of the shop overlooking the back yard. The door also features a window so I am amply supplied with the warmth of the sun most days. Even on those days when it rains can be restful and pleasant. Most of all, it is peaceful and close to the wondrous beauty of nature. 

I admit at times while supposedly engaged in some productive task  I do indulge in more than my share of  daydreaming as well. Often the daydreams include memories of days past as well as thoughts about today and the days to come. Many of  my web pages have first had their plot line created while I was puttering at that work bench with only my sweet Petey and the sound of his outdoor cousins as the occasional distraction. 

As the years pass and I am now in a position to indulge in those pastimes which  are one of the benefits of retirement I find myself forgetting the negative aspects of growing older as I lose myself in what was in busier times only fond memories of childhood days. Using my  imagination and allowing my mind to go where it will. As I am lost in old memories all too often I find myself smiling, on occasion weeping, and even many times laughing out loud. Anyone observing my antics might well wonder if this weird old lady had lost her senses. 

 One thing I have found as the years have passed... one's short term memory may well be less than  perfect these days but memories from years long past are as sharp as if they had happened yesterday. I finally understand why it is that older people always love to reminisce and talk about the 'old days' !  A little tip for my younger readers .... indulge them. Allow them to enjoy the moments again. Your time will come, and one day you too will understand. You may not believe it now but  the so-called 'golden years' do have their blessings. 

Of course those years also come with  their own  myriad number of aches and pains which accompany the memories but it is astounding how the aches and pains diminish  when one loses oneself in nostalgia. Some memories actually bring an ache, and some warm the heart, as the memory of  a precious moment or especially troubling time comes to mind. None of us is without our fair share of both.  But then, no one ever promised us that life wouldn't  be difficult at times. It really is true, time does always seem to provide perspective. And perhaps even a more tolerant and forgiving outlook. One can even find that they forgive their own mistakes along the way when weighed against  the overall  picture. After all, if it can be said that we most times did our best to do what was right what more can one ask ? 

Among my most favoured memories are those of days spent with my Grandfather during the years when I was so eager to grow up and be independent. What I wouldn't give to be able to spend even a few hours with that amazing man once again. He frequently chuckled as he counselled me to not be in such a rush to put childhood behind me. And how right he was. But then, he usually was right about just about everything. If I have accomplished in my lifetime to date one tenth of what he expected of me  then I know I have remembered those lessons. One thing he taught me above all else was to never take for granted the gifts of nature and its creatures. 

My Grandfather was a God fearing man and cherished his faith but he was also one who never judged others. He reminded me frequently that judging was God's prerogative. He felt that we as mere mortals were expected to  live our lives with the attitude that we must try  to always do unto others as we would have done unto ourselves. And that, most significantly, kindness was a multi-faceted blessing. He always said to be kind to others is to give a gift to yourself because offering kindness to others invariably seems to have a boomerang effect and ends up making you feel even better than the recipient of your act,  even on those occasions when the kindness is not returned. One of the most precious lessons  I learned  was from the example he offered me of what represented a Christian. For he truly was one in the finest sense of the word. And one who abhorred hypocrisy  just as his granddaughter  has throughout her lifetime.

Often he used our time together in the early evening sitting on the end of the dock  with our bamboo fishing poles patiently waiting for another perch to  take the bait as a time for quiet talks and imparting kernels of wisdom to the young granddaughter who tried his patience often, was always in a rush, and who thought at times she knew better than he. How very wrong  that skinny, naive girl actually was. She had only just begun to learn. But even then she had enough good sense to cherish those moments, recognize the worth of the man at her side, and know how very special he was. And, to realize how very fortunate she was to be his granddaughter.  He never quite managed to convince her to bait her own hook however ...  getting one of those squiggly worms onto that hook was one lesson she was more than happy to never learn. The other fishing lesson she never mastered was the horrid task of scaling and cleaning the catch. Amazing how that little girl managed to convince Grandpa that she would definitely botch the job if he were to insist she  participate in that chore. His kindness and good humour allowed her to get away with it although in retrospect I imagine it was mostly common sense on his part as cleaning and deboning a fresh water perch is a  task for a patient hand  and that little girl did not count patience as a particular virtue in those days !

One of the most precious gifts from my Grandfather was my love of gardening and nature. It was from him that my ingrained appreciation of the wonders of nature first saw the light of day. Grandpa  was retired, having sold his business when I was still just a toddler, and  he filled his days with gardening,  fishing, reading his bible, and his daily trip up town to the post office, walking ramrod straight till the very end of his life, walking cane in hand, and always at a lively pace. That trip was always an adventure in itself. One never quite knew  which route Grandpa would decide to  take. Some days it might be visiting friends along the way, other days he might walk down to the lake just to gaze at the clear blue water from the pier and perhaps remember back  to those long ago days when as a youngster of only fourteen he worked on the fishing boats to support his mother and his siblings. Perhaps the years he spent as the lighthouse keeper guarding the harbour long after he had given up sailing. How he loved being close to the water ! Lake Huron was  a part of his soul I think. In fact he was baptized in that lake at the tender age of fourteen  in the middle of the month of February, having to cut through several inches of ice  to accomplish that feat, and never even caught a cold, as he was so fond of telling me. That beautiful lake was always so crystal clear, blue, and cold, no matter what the season, and still untouched by the pollution which this modern age would bring in the years to come. 

Hard work was never something which was a stranger in my Grandpa's lifetime. It most assuredly didn't hurt him too much as he lived to the grand old age of ninety-two and then quietly, and gracefully, slipped away. So many years ago now, and yet I cannot begin to put into words how much I still miss him. His passing left a part of my heart forever longing  to only once more share a few moments  with the man I so adored. Strange, but in recent years that longing has seemed to intensify. Perhaps because I now have more time to allow my mind to go back to the days of my youth. How I wish my son and my grandchildren could have known him as I did.

Besides my Grandfather's serious side there was a  wonderfully light-hearted side which made him great fun to be around once one was old enough to appreciate the subtlety of his humour. He had lived such a long life, and in many ways a very difficult one, but he never lost  his optimism for life and his belief in others.  As much as he loved  the water he also loved the  feel of the earth in his fingers and nurtured that appreciation by maintaining two huge garden plots well into his early nineties. One in a lot adjacent to his home and one on a plot of land  in the valley by the river at the bottom of our street. How he and Grandma even managed the trek up and down the steep hill to that riverside plot and then spent hours each day tending that garden as well as the one at home still surprises me. He grew enough vegetables to feed all of us, the neighbours, and  almost every other friend and relative in town. And, they were many  for most of our family lived close by. As a teenager at times I thought everyone in town was a blood relative as I had so many aunts, uncles and cousins, who were watching over me to be sure I didn't misstep. I know I resented it more than a little sometimes but it was also reassuring to know so many cared although a true appreciation of how lucky I actually was growing up at that time and in that place only came in later years.

As I indulge in these precious memories it  truly saddens me when I realize  that far too many of today's youngsters are denied the opportunity of having the luxury of a  relationship with their grandparents such as I was so very fortunate to have as a child. An exceptional   communication exists and familial ties are strengthened when families have continuity and generational connection. So much can be learned from the elders of a family. Not just practical lessons but the values and principles which we live by our entire lives. In this busy modern world where parents are struggling just to provide for their families so often there simply isn't time to pause and listen to your children, laugh together, and to share a part of one's self as a Grandparent does so willingly. The child who has that precious relationship in their lives has a much better chance of growing up with a stronger sense of self worth and an appreciation of 'family'  for having had the experience of  sharing time with  those who have the benefit of having lived and learned  so much more simply because of longevity. Because Grandparents  are able to provide the history  which gives children the grounding from which they will go forward into their future with both feet on solid ground they stand a much better chance of success in their later lives.

We have come so far since my childhood days, our lives are so much easier because of all our modern conveniences, and yet we have lost so much. Families are no longer as close, grandparents are not a central part of so many lives, parents are too busy, often through no real fault of their own, to be real role models for their children and  children are adrift. Left to fend for themselves and so often make wrong choices which will have lasting effects on their future lives. Never has the need for the presence of loving Grandparents in a child's life been greater. Society very much needs to reassess the golden opportunity which is there for the taking and is so often ignored. Share your lives with  those who so much want to still be a part of  your world. Give your children the priceless gift of their Grandparents. You, and they, will never be sorry for having done so.