T is for TRUST

Being reliant on another person or having faith in others and believing them is called TRUST. It is probably the most important ingredient in building an intimate relationship between husband and wife and can be cultivated and nurtured by creating a safe emotional space. There are a few guidelines to follow when creating that safe emotional space that engenders trust.

1. Constantly work on improving communication skills. The most important part of being a good communicator is by being a good listener and using "I" statements.

2. Take on the responsibility of expressing your needs and express them clearly and assertively. Don't be afraid of rejection or of being ashamed of having these needs.

3. Be positive and give pleasure. Use the "5 to 1 rule" where you have to consciously say 5 positive things to your spouse before saying anything negative or critical.

4. Don't allow issues to go unresolved. When issues don't get resolved, then resentments develop and fester. And when resentments develop then trust is lost.

5. It's okay to fight but learn to fight fair. Here are a few ideas about how to fight fair - never resort to name-calling, keep to the issue at hand, don't say "you never" or "you always," never bring the other person's family into the issue at hand, agree beforehand on a method of time out if you feel things are getting out of hand.

Trust is one thing that takes a long time to build and a very short time to destroy. Be careful how you treat each other. Many people wrongly believe that in a good marriage, you can "relax" and not have to monitor everything you say and do. Nothing could be farther from the truth.
In a good marriage, you must always be monitoring your behavior. This is the key to building a strong relationship and trust.

S is for Spectrum

The word spectrum implies a broad range of conditions or behaviors grouped together with a unifying theme between extremes at either end.

Today I'd like to take a look at men from slobs to suits.

A slob is a person regarded as slovenly, crude, or obnoxious. A slob can also be sloppy, coarse, gross, and slurps his food and drinks. A slob could be someone who doesn't take any pride in his appearance by being unkempt, dirty, doesn't bother to shave, and/or wears dirty clothes. A slob could also be someone who swears a lot, tells shameful stories or jokes, or is generally simply annoying.

A suit is regarded as someone who is thought of as looking professional, whether in formal or informal terms. In other words, a "suit" cares about his appearance, is clean, tidy, and cares about his personal grooming. This would include showering, shaving, and ensuring that nose hairs and finger nails are trimmed. In short, he respects himself and everyone who sees him.

"Slobs" and "Suits" are two ends of the spectrum and naturally, there are all sorts of men who fit somewhere in between. And of course there are situations where one might appear a bit slobbish for a time (e.g. camping out in the wild). Personally, I prefer the half that tends towards the suit, and I'm sure most women would agree with me.

Men seem to be turned on visually by women. However, they often fail to realize that women get turned off if what they see is not visually appealing. I may be simply speculating here.

Of course, slobs and suits can be related to women, as well. But what I'm trying to say is that we should all take a good long look in the mirror every once in a while and ask ourselves, "Am I a slob? Or am I a suit?"

Which do you prefer?

How did THIS happen?

My baby turns 30 years old today! How did this happen?

Yesterday, she was just learning to crawl, starring in an ice show, playing soccer and tennis while learning ballet.

And now here she is a grown up lady with a life of her own.

We celebrated by having lunch together at her favourite restaurant - the White Spot - and finished off with their special lemon tart!

She has a wonderful weekend planned with some of her friends! I dropped her off at work after our lunch, but this evening is party time with friends, tomorrow she and a girl friend are driving to Kelowna, then back Saturday for an all-day beach party, and Sunday she's going to the Cloverdale Rodeo. Whew! I guess 30 years ago, I could have managed all that in one weekend, but now? Not very likely!

The last decade was a bit rough for D2, so here's hoping and praying that things will only get better for her. I love her tiara - she's going to wear it all day and night, even at work! It took me a long time to decide what to give her for this milestone birthday, but I finally decided on the pearl necklace that her father had given me many years ago. She was pleased and I know she'll treasure it the rest of her life.

R is for Rest and Relaxation

Click on the photos to "embiggen."

Friday was restful. After all we've been going through lately, we decided to go somewhere near the water with our books, buy some fish 'n chips and diet Coke, and relax in the warmth of a magnificent May day. Our drive took us to Garry Point, in the nearby village of Steveston just across the river where the mighty Fraser River empties into the Strait of Georgia's salt water.

First up was lunch at Pajo's...if you've never had their fish 'n chips, it's a must! Later on, I traipsed back for frozen yogurt mixed with fresh fruit - blackberries for Lorne and peaches for me. Another must!

We settled into our fold-up chairs facing the sun and the water and as Lorne settled in for a good read, I picked up my camera to see what I could see. Children playing near the edge of the water, older people relaxing at picnic tables or on benches looking out at the various types of boats that went by - whale watchers, car freighters, pilot boats, tugboats and sailboats.

After reading for a while myself, I decided to go for a stroll over to the Japanese gardens. Steveston is well known for being a fishing village, especially known for its salmon cannery. And Japanese Canadians formed a large part of the population of the village until WWII when they were shipped out and interred in the interior of the province. From the garden commemorating those Japanese Canadians, I found a few great vantage points for some photos.

From the Japanese gardens, I meandered down to the point where stands a memorial for fishermen who have been lost at sea. I'd been there before, but just to admire the view. This time, I actually looked at the memorial and was amazed at the incredible visions!

I leisurely strolled back to our little peace of paradise, and on the way, managed to capture a candid shot of Lorne looking relaxed (albeit a big haggard) as he absorbed the warm sun rays while reading his latest find. And I'll leave you with my favourite shot of the day, a contrast to my "old man," this little boy who was enjoying tossing a stick into the water and waiting patiently for it to return so he could throw it out again. Ah, the gentle joys of childhood and a day of rest and relaxation.

Q is for Quick(ly)

Life has been a blur lately. Since March 26th, when Lorne was diagnosed with colon cancer, he's had many tests done and had surgery exactly one month later. That was quick!

After the surgery, the specialist told us everything looked good, but we had to wait for the biopsies of the nodes to be 100% sure he wouldn't need any further treatment.

In the meantime, Lorne healed up very quickly and pushed himself to get out and mow the lawn (it's a small lawn) a week later. He even did a bit of gardening, even though he's still sore. We thought he'd been blessed with a quick recovery.

Thursday evening, the doctor phoned with dreaded news - they found two malignant spots in the nodes from about twenty they checked. Therefore, Lorne is going to need chemotherapy. It didn't take me long to fall apart. On Friday, I was physically ill and by Sunday, I couldn't even get out of bed because of terrible nausea.

Monday, Lorne had another CT scan and saw his GP who said he was amazed as his quick recovery! Today he is seeing the oncologist to discuss his treatment. Quick action, I'd say, from the medical profession!

I know it's Lorne's journey, so-to-speak, but I have my own journey to take along with him. And I quickly realized that I need help, too. It seems a faucet has grown just above my eyes and it's constantly leaking! So, I went to the Delta Hospice Center to request counseling for myself. I need to know how to deal with my own emotions while at the same time, be supportive of Lorne and his fears.

Let's hope and pray that Lorne's treatment will be quick and that he'll be given a prognosis for a long life to come.

P is for Paradise

Paradise is a place in which existence is positive, harmonious and timeless. It is conceptually a counter-image of the miseries of human civilization, and in paradise there is only peace, prosperity, and happiness. Paradise is a place of contentment, but it is not necessarily a land of luxury and idleness. (Wikipedia)

The word "paradise" comes from an old Persian word having to do with beautiful gardens. That brings to mind the story of Adam and Eve. Everything was perfection there - lots of good food, perfect climate, and no sin. Heaven is also a form of paradise as Jesus promised the thief on the cross that he would soon be with him in paradise. So what will it be like there? Since no one has ever come back, we don't know for sure. Maybe it will be different for each one. Maybe we'll find ourselves living harmoniously in peace and contentment with those friends and family members who have preceded us. Maybe we'll end up as "guardian angels" and return to an earthly existence to help others.

I have been blessed with the gift of faith and believe with all my heart that I will go to Heaven one day. Why do I believe so strongly in this afterlife? I have three very vivid reasons - my grandmother, my late husband, and my parents.

First, early one bitterly cold morning in Ottawa, I was on the bus heading to work. The harsh lights of the bus contrasted with the black of the outside, causing the bus to appear twice as wide as it was. Head nodding, gently bumping against the frigid windowpane, I suddenly became aware of a presence. It was my grandmother who had passed away two years previously. I did not see her body or hear her speak to me. I just simply knew she was there with me. I smiled and said (in my head) "Hi Grandma!" And then she was gone.

Next, my husband took his own life in August, 1992. It was an extremely traumatic time in my life and it took me years to recover. About a month after he died, I came home from work and went upstairs to change into casual clothes. I was so exhausted from work and grief that I didn't have the energy to get beyond my slip, so I lay down on the bed. Suddenly, he was there! Again, I didn't see his body or hear him as you would think you'd hear someone. But, I did hear him say to me, "I'm okay now, Sweetie." And before I could sit up and utter the words, "Don't go!" he was gone.

Finally, my mother passed away in 2002 and my father joined her in 2007. I had been the last one to be with my mother before she passed, and I was with my father when he took his final breath. About a month after my father's celebration of life, it was a beautiful sunny day in October, so I decided to go for a walk. The leaves were brilliant reds, yellows, and oranges and had just begun to drop. I'd been walking for about 10-15 minutes, admiring the colours, when suddenly my mother and father were with me. My mother was on my left and my father on my right. Again, I didn't see their bodies but I knew they were there. I remember being so stunned that I just kept walking and smiling, hoping they would stay. But as suddenly as they were there, they were gone.

Now, I have told some of my Christian friends about these experiences and they looked at me like I was crazy. Only a few believed me and actually envied me those moments.

Why do I think they came to me? Well, first of all, my grandmother had been raised Baptist, but did not believe in an afterlife. She believed that the end was just that - the end. Perhaps she was trying to tell me that she had been wrong all her life and wanted me to believe. Second, my husband had never been a believer, either, and knew that his illness had been an extremely difficult time for me. I believe he was reassuring me that everything was going to be okay since he was then okay. Finally, my parents had had a very rocky marriage, with my mother often wanting to leave my father. Perhaps it was their way of letting me know that they were reunited and would always be together, happy in the end.

Life can be hard. But my faith in an everlasting life in Paradise keeps me going.

O is for OPERATION

What an Opportune week to land on the letter O! Monday morning my DL had his operation for cOlOn cancer and I'm here to report that all seems well so far. Our worst worries were that the cancer might have spread (it doesn't appear to have done so) and he might have needed an Ostomy bag (he didn't). The surgeon told me that it was a simple resection and that he'll be in the hospital for at least 5 days.

This past month has been fraught with emOtion for bOth of us. At first DL said he wasn't going to have the Operation, but later, of course, changed his mind. I guess that was "denial." Then he started pushing people away from himself - he wouldn't talk to me or his friends and sunk into a deep Overwhelming depression. He believed he was going to die and was preparing himself for the absolute worst scenariO. Although I tried to stay Optimistic, which is my nature, that just frustrated and angered him. He finally began to Open up a bit to me and admitted that he was terrified that he would not wake up from the anaesthetic. He slOwly began to listen and accept that everything would be Okay in the lOng run. I was nOt going to leave him to die alOne and I promised that I would not mOther him when he gets hOme.

What I'm hOping for nOw is that DL will take this, do I dare say "adventure," as an Opportunity to find a pOsitive meaning for his life, will take stOck of whO he is and what he wants to accOmplish during the rest of his time alive. I truly hOpe he will take a good lOOk at his values and priOrities and identify sOme changes he'd like to make.

I knOw that fOr myself, I've taken stOck of my priOrities and a big wedding is definitely nOt necessary. I think it's important to cOmmunicate better with each Other and share Our innermOst and fundamental beliefs. I am very spiritual whereas DL believes the end is simply that - the end. One evening, he Opened up and wept that he would never hear music again when he dies. I had the mOst wOnderful OppOrtunity to tell him that Heaven is FULL of music and he was going to be in for a big surprise! It's mOments like these that can help give someone the strength to go on and cOpe with the difficulty of dealing with such a hOrrendous disease.

I'm hOping that DL will become more Open to hearing about an everlasting life full of music and lOve. One day, he will come to realize just how many people - all Over the wOrld - have been praying for him to Overcome this disease and move on to live the rest of his life to the fullest.

If he doesn't, see that mallet in the cartOOn?

To find out more about colon cancer, please click here.

I'd also like to thank everyOne whO sent up prayers and gOOd thoughts for us bOth - friends in Canada, the USA, England, Wales, and even Australia! God is gOOd...

Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will take care of itself" -Matthew 6:34

N is for Novels and Novelists

My news lately has been so nasty that I decided to tell you how I've been coping with the nausea caused by all the stress - by reading books by my favourite novelists.

The first is Ken Follett, a Welshman who is well known for his spy novels. You might recall his first Novel, Eye of the Needle, which was made into a movie starring Kate Nelligan and Donald Sutherland. Another of my favourites from Ken Follett is On Wings of Eagles, the true story of how two employees of Ross Perot were rescued from Iran during the revolution of 1979. This book was made into a miniseries with Richard Crenna as Ross Perot and Burt Lancaster as Colonel 'Bull' Simons.

Because Ken Follett was so well known for the spy genre, his fans were surprised when he came out with Pillars of the Earth in 1989. I read this book while I was recuperating from back surgery last year and found it full of strong women characters, suspense, and intrigue. The Novel is about building a cathedral during the Middle Ages and it received rave reviews. It was on the No. 1 position on reading lists in Canada, Great Britain, and Italy as well as being on the German best-seller list for six years! The sequel, World Without End, published in 2007, takes place two hundred years later and features descendants of the original characters. At the heart of the story is the greatest natural disaster ever to strike the human race: the plague known as the Black Death, which killed something like half the population of Europe in the fourteenth century. The people of the Middle Ages battled this lethal pestilence and survived – and, in doing so, laid the foundations of modern medicine. The book is on my desk at this moment, but I plan to read it over the summer while lazing in the garden. And the other great news is that it, too, is being made into a miniseries starring Donald Sutherland as Bartholomew.

My other favourite Novelist is Phillippa Gregory, who lives on a small farm in Yorkshire, England where she keeps horses, hens and ducks. She was an established historian and writer when she discovered her interest in the Tudor period and wrote the Novel The Other Boleyn Girl, which was made into a TV drama and a major film. Now, six Novels later, she is looking at the family that preceded the Tudors: the magnificent Plantaganets, a family of complex rivalries, loves, and hatreds.

With a keen interest in all things British, I truly enjoy reading her Novels about King Henry VIII and his six wives along with her other Novels that take place in Medieval England. So far I have devoured not only The Other Boleyn Girl but also her Wideacre Trilogy (Wideacre, The Favoured Child, and Meridon), The Wise Woman, The Queen's Fool, The Boleyn Inheritance, and The Virgin's Lover. Currently, I am about halfway through The White Queen. I would dare to say that Pillippa Gregory's Novels are more interesting to women than to men, but who knows? Maybe some men read her books.

Banishing the Blues

I spent some time at Vancouver's Van Dusen Gardens today after lunching with my two sisters. The sun was shining and it was warm enough to not need a jacket. I'm quite pleased with the results of my photographing many of the Spring flowers outside the gardens. It gave me a renewed spirit of hope that life is beginning to bloom again.

Struggling With Sadness

I've been feeling so overwhelmed for the past month that I find tears flowing down my face far too often. DL is feeling his own fear and desperation that he won't survive the big C and is, as a result, pushing his loved ones away. Not just me, but also his closest friends. I try to accomodate him but when he snaps at me, I find myself snapping back.

Today I remembered that I'd written about sadness quite a long time ago, so went into my archives to find it. Surprisingly, it's been exactly three years - do we have cycles of sadness in our lives? Anyway, I read it over and it made me cry again, but please do read it because the tears were not of sadness anymore. The story gives me hope.

THE STORY OF THE SAD SADNESS

Once upon a time there was a little woman who walked along the dusty field-path. She was quite old yet her steps were light and springy and her smile had the fresh glow of a carefree girl. She stopped at a cowered figure and looked down. She couldn’t recognize much.The being that sat in the dirt on the path seemed to be almost bodiless. She reminded her of a grey flannel blanket with human shape.
The little woman bent a little forward and asked: ”Who are you?” Two almost lifeless tired eyes looked up towards her. “Me? I am the Sadness”, whispered the voice haltingly and softly, almost too soft to hear.“Oh, the Sadness!” said the woman pleased as if she would greet an old friend.
“You know me?” asked the Sadness mistrusting.
“Of course I know you! You accompanied me every once in a while over and over again on parts of my path.”
“Yes, but…” said the Sadness suspiciously, “why don’t you run away from me? Aren’t you afraid?”“Why should I run from you, my dear? You know very well yourself that you catch on with everybody who tries to get away from you. But, what I wanted to ask you: “Why do you look so discouraged?”“I am … sad”, replied the grey figure with broken voice.
The little woman sat down at her side. “So, you are sad”, she said and nodded with understanding. “Tell me what bothers you.”
The Sadness sighed deeply. Was there really someone who would like to listen to her this time? How often did she wish for that to happen.
“You know”, she started hesitantly and very astonished, “it’s just that nobody actually likes me. It is my destiny to visit humans for a while but when I show up they are scared of me. They are afraid of me and try to avoid me like the plague.”The Sadness swallowed some tears. “They invented phrases that they try to ban me with. They say things like: “Nonsense, I can’t be sad. Life is always bright and fun.” And their fake smiles give them stomach cramps and they have a hard time breathing. They say: “Praise is what makes us tough,” and then they end up with heartache. They say, “One just has to put it all together and suck it up!” and then they feel all kinds of aches and pains in their shoulders and their backs. They say: “Only weak people cry!” and the banked up tears almost make their heads burst. Or they try to numb themselves with alcohol or drugs so that they don’t have to feel me.”
“Oh yes”, confirmed the old woman, “I’ve met people like that before.”
The Sadness turned even sadder… “But all I want is to help humans. When I am very close to them they can face themselves. I help them build a nest to cuddle up in to take care of their wounds. Somebody who is sad has very thin skin. Old sorrows surface again like a bad healed wound and that can hurt a lot. But who is able to face their grief and sorrow and cries? All the uncried tears can truly make their wounds heal. People don’t want me to help them though. Instead they put on a flashy smile on top of their scars. Or they put on a heavy shield of bitterness”.
The Sadness was silent now. Her crying at first was weak, then it became stronger and finally it was very desperate.
The little, old woman hugged her, caressed the shaky bundle and thought to herself how soft and gentle Sadness felt. “Cry, Sadness, let your tears flow”, she whispered full of love, “Rest so that you can gather your strength back. From now on you shall not wander all by yourself. I will join you so that discouragement and despair can’t take over anymore.”The Sadness quit crying. She looked her new companion straight in the eyes: “But, but who are you?”
“Me?” said the old lady with a smile on her face and then she laughed again like a carefree young girl.“I am HOPE.”

I have to believe there is light at the end of the tunnel, or else that fear of the unknown will just cripple me. I just have to let go and let God.

M is for Medicine

It's hard to believe we're halfway through Round 6 of ABC Wednesday! Yet here we are at the letter M already...and I've decided to focus on the word medicine this week. It seems as if we've done nothing but do the rounds to general practictioners, surgeons, oncologists, medical labs for blood workups and CT scans, nurses, anaesthesiologists, and others who will help us deal with things from a psychological point of view.

I'm struggling to maintain my sense of humour, weird as it may be, but it's the only way I can deal with all that's happening to my DL. He is having a terrible time coping right now and I guess it's normal for him to go through these stages. First there was denial, then weeping, and then anger. He's been pushing his loved ones away stating that he'll handle this on his own. Now we all know that's impossible. But for now, we let him alone to absorb this terrific impact.

Medicine has come a long way from the days of witch doctors and grasses, roots, and herbs to the current technological advances. There was a day not too long ago in the past when one would simply accept the word "cancer" as a death sentence. Now, not so much. So many types of cancers are literally curable and most can be treated so that the patient can continue with as normal a lifestyle as possible. Yet we still panic when we hear the C word and are told surgery is scheduled April 26th. (Note: see how quickly you get in when it's something urgent!)

I don't deny that I will not be able to breathe a sigh of relief until about two weeks post-surgery when we will (hopefully) hear the words "It hasn't spread. You'll be fine without further treatment." Maybe those words will be a wakeup call to take better care of ourselves. But if we hear anything other than those words, we will need to make the best of what time is left for us and live day by day.

In the meantime, I believe I've heard an expression that goes something like this: Laughter is the best medicine.

To see more contributions to ABC Wednesday, just click here.

L is for Lorazapam

Lorazepam, also known at Ativan, is a drug that is approved to treat anxiety. The drug is thought to work in the brain by enhancing the effects of a chemical in the body that is naturally calming. As a result, lorazepam is able to reduce anxiety, cause sleepiness and relax muscles, among other things.

Last week, I mentioned that knowledge is power and that we're going to arm ourselves with as much knowledge about cancer as possible in order to fight accordingly. However, that said, no one ever told me that the shock and worry would hit me like a brick bat! My blood pressure has shot up to 160/90, making me lightheaded and dizzy with a head that feels as though it's going to explode. After seeing the doctor on Saturday to make sure I wasn't having a stroke, I came home to bed, silently weeping so as not to worry my DL. D2 happened to phone for something and I asked her if she had any tranquilizers in her arsenal of drugs. She did, so when DL realized how distraught I was, he whipped out right away to pick them up. One .5 mg of lorazapam did the trick and I was able to doze for a while and get up for a late supper.

I think I'm over the first of the shock, but next come two appointments with a surgeon and an oncologist - Thursday and Friday. Perhaps more tests and/or CT scans or an MRI plus surgery within the next few weeks. We've postponed our late September wedding, but are hoping that the honeymoon trip we booked will still be a possible recuperation trip instead. If not, I have cancellation insurance and we'll just go from there.

I had breakfast this morning with an old friend who went through this same problem two years ago. It was so gratifying to hear how well she's doing, and that she didn't need chemo or radiation. She also told me that it was almost harder on her husband than on herself because as the loved one, you feel so helpless.

I've also found that it is times like this that one's true friends rise to the challenge. And I think I've found my sense of humour again, too.

K is for KNOWLEDGE

There has been a little kink in our plans for the future. My dearest has been diagnosed with colon cancer but we don't yet know how serious it is. He will require surgery - and soon - and we're hoping that things will go our way in the surgery, convalescence, and prognosis for recovery.

When we were told last Friday, my first thought was that I need to educate myself. I went online and researched this disease and found out quite a bit. I believe that the more you learn about something, no matter what it is, the better equipped you are to deal with it. In this way, knowledge is the key to power. One piece of information I found was that this is one of the easiest cancers to cure if found early. So...fingers crossed.

Now, when we see all the doctors that will be involved in his treatment and recovery, we will be knowledgeable about what to expect and how to deal with this intrusion into our lives. Although my dearest has the disease, it affects us both. We will be fighting this thing together with as much knowledge and determination as possible.

With the knowledge of what we're facing, we can put on the armour needed to face the battle ahead.

PUNCH ME - I'm already down!

I have often thought of myself as one of those blow-up clowns that you punch punch punch but it keeps on bouncing back up.

Why?

Those who know me and my background know that I've led a somewhat, shall we say, difficult life. Without getting into specifics here, suffice it to say that I've endured more than my share of upsets, both physical and emotional.

Recently, my daughter had to undergo gall bladder surgery after she'd already spent about 2 weeks in total in the hospital - on intravenous antibiotics to get rid of an infection that was making her very very sick. Naturally, I spent a lot of time at the hospital to keep her company and to keep her morale up. She just went back to work on Wednesday, feeling so much better after this long long haul of illness.

So I just got myself up and was able to relax after the lengthy "This, too, shall pass" episode when I accompanied my dearest L to the hospital this morning for a little procedure.

I was sitting at his bedside waiting for him to be allowed to leave when the doctor who had done the procedure arrived. Surgery is in the very near future to remove a cancerous tumour on his colon. The appointment to see his general practitioner has now been made for next Wednesday and he will arrange for the operation to remove the cancer and to find out how far it has advanced. Let's hope it has been caught early enough.

I feel like I'm down for the count this time. But then, life isn't fair, is it? Just when you think you've made it, someone/thing comes along and punches you down again.

I've been told I'm a very strong person but frankly, I'd like someone to look after me for a while. For now, I guess that someone will just have to be me. I'll be too busy looking after someone else - again.

I just hope that one of these days when I'm down, someone will hear me call, "I've fallen and I can't get up!"

J is for JONES and J names

I was born into the Jones family. My paternal grandfather was Joseph Henry Jones and because he suffered from battle in World War I, he died young at about 55 years of age. I don't have any photos of him, but I do remember that we were living with him and my Nana Jones the year he died suddenly of a heart attack. It's as though it were yesterday when, from my upstairs bedroom, I could hear something going on downstairs. It wasn't until the next day that we were told that Grandpa had passed away.

My father was named John Richard Jones, but nicknamed Jack. From previous posts about him, you might recall that he became a famous soccer player in his early 20s before going on to serve in the RCAF during World War II. Dad was the only male child of JHJ, and because he ended up having three daughters, the Jones name died out. However, we three girls still consider ourselves to be Joneses and make sure our children know of their heritage. And even though none of our children inherited the Jones name, per se, there are lots of J names in our immediate family.

My younger sister was named Jacqueline and nicknamed Jackie after our Dad. My first daughter has a J name - Jamie and she married Jason - and my second daughter was named after her Auntie Jackie, but is called Jaclyn. The latest member of our family to have a J name is my new little Great Nephew, born February 18 of this year. He was dubbed Jack.

My late husband's father had a J name - James - and it's ironic that Lorne's Dad was named John Herbert and nicknamed Jack.

So as you can see, the letter J stands out in our family and there are lots of us with a J name. When I was researching the Jones name, I found out that there was a Welsh John Richard Jones (1765 -1822) who was a Baptist preacher. I wonder if we are related to him. I should check into that.

Below left is my sister Jackie when she was a little girl and on the right is my daughter Jaclyn just heading out on her first day of Grade 2.

And here is my daughter Jamie with her husband Jason. And on the right, the last of this particular branch of the Jones family, my Dad Jack not long before he passed away with his first great-grandson Noah.

I'm going to a "Welcome Jack" luncheon next Sunday to meet the newest Jack of our family and will make sure I get lots of photos of him. So stay tuned.
ABC Wednesday is the brainchild of Denise Nesbitt and if you're interest in participating or just reading some of the posts for ABCW, just click here.