I wish I had half my grandmother's courage

My Grandmother, Mollie (Mary) Miller, circa 1945.

On Friday evening, my mother called to tell me that my grandmother finally succumbed to the cancer she'd been battling for over two years. Although we were all expecting this day to come, and it is a relief to know that her suffering has ended, I'm still feeling tremendous sadness. For years, I've been telling stories about my grandmother's remarkable willingness to defy convention and to stand up to anyone and anything that got in her way. The story I've always loved most was that of her journey to Canada in 1946. Like more than 50,000 other women, Mollie (nee Mary Darroch) came to Canada after meeting and marrying a Canadian soldier, Eldon Miller, during wartime. At only seventeen years of age, she left her home country of Scotland and boarded a trans-Atlantic ship that would sail into Halifax harbour at Pier 21. Eventually, she settled into her new home in rural New Brunswick, making the surrounding landscape of Upper Caverhill her own. She planted beautiful flowers and lush vegetables and always found the sweetest wild strawberries and blackberries that she would make into the most delicious jams. She regularly travelled through its beautiful woods, for many years with a small herd of dogs leading the way. She could identify the myriad birds that filled the country air with song, and even imitate many of their calls; she could show you how to catch delicate butterflies and fireflies without causing the creatures any harm; she could write exquisite letters that brought all the imagery of the countryside, and her love, to your doorstep; she could recite playful Gaelic limericks that would make you forget what was ailing you; and she could sing songs of her native Scotland that would bring its beauty to life. While Mollie learned to love her new home in Canada, she never lost her deep affection for Scotland or the remnants of her Glaswegian accent. In making that remarkable voyage, Mollie displayed a pioneering spirit and resilience that her family and friends have long admired. Her courageous journey, from Kirkintilloch, Scotland, to Upper Caverhill, New Brunswick, from Calgary, Alberta, to her final resting place, is one that will continue to inspire our family for generations to come.

I will not neglect my blog any more. I will not neglect my blog anymore . . .

I'm making a vow to, at long last, create some new entries for my blog. I'm even giving myself a deadline. By next week, you'll see something new here. I do have several good excuses for getting so behind. In the time since my last posts, I've driven across the country, I've written another chapter of my dissertation, I've begun the arduous task of refining my job application material, I've revised some material for publication, I've continued with my marathon training, and I've raise more than $1500 for the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society, taking me half-way to my fundraising goal. Thank you to everyone who made a contribution! It's greatly appreciated. If you'd like to check out my progress, or make a donation, you can do so by following this link.

In other words, I've been very busy. Things are only going to get more intense from here, but I really would like to post a few photos from my summer travels. I have so many wonderful images and experiences to share, from the positively decadent and splendid trip across the Atlantic aboard the Queen Mary 2, to a work-related visit to Mexico, to a camping adventure that saw us drive (and camp) from Rochester to Alberta and back. For now, let me just start with a few teaser images from the Queen Mary 2. I promise to post more soon!

One of the many evenings that gave us an excuse to put on some fancy clothes.

Though the weather in the middle of the North Atlantic is not exactly ideal for sunbathing, we did manage to spend some time in the deck jacuzzi and pools.

GIve us your tired, huddled masses . . .
Here we are looking wind-blown and exhausted at about 6am as the ship enters the New York City harbor.

Fred and Aviva looking decidedly content. Perhaps it's because they are sitting in one of the ship's numerous dining areas where we ate like kings!

Now, I'm going to return to writing, though I'm not sure how long I'll be able to last. I completed a 16-mile run this morning and I'm certainly feeling the effects. Surprisingly enough, I'm not stiff or sore, just very tired. I normally do my long runs on Saturdays, but I was busy with the garage sale. So, I made arrangements to meet up with another member of my group this morning. I completed the run in 2 hours and 20 minutes, which means I kept myself under the 9 min/mile marker. Not too bad for such a long run!