It's Hard to be Salt and Light

 I'm not supposed to care -- but I do.  

I grew up less than 20 miles north of the border between Quebec, here in Canada, and northern NY State -- and not all that far from Vermont.  We'd go to Malone for movies that hadn't come to our home town or even to Montreal.  We'd go for shopping.  We'd go to Chateauguay, NY (not to be confused with Chateauguay, Quebec!) for dining.  I think some of my cousins there still do.

My parents -- my mother and my step-father, who married in July 1957 -- procured a lease on a piece of land on a bay in the St. Lawrence River.  They -- with the help of some hired experts and a LOT of friends -- built a cottage there (no basement -- mounted up on cement block underpinnings) -- and we spent summers there as a family.  

Some years we also lived there from Victoria Day Weekend (a week before Memorial Day for y'all in the US) through Thanksgiving (CANADIAN Thanksgiving, y'all -- the 2nd weekend in October).  Our parents figured out a way to get us in to town to go to school until we were back 'home' again and able to get there on foot.

Once we learned to swim, there was an ongoing competition to see who was brave enough to jump into the bay on May Long (or earlier!) and again at Thanksgiving.  Just so  you know.

The farmer who owned the land had many tenants -- including Americans.  There were some from not far away (Chateauguay, NY, etc.) and others from as far away as Michigan.  One cabin/cottage was named "The Detroiter".  I remember meeting the younger generation there -- visiting their grandparents who owned the place. Good kids.

There were French Canadian families who moved there too.  One of them had several sons and Jean, the youngestof 3 boys (as I recall), joined us Anglos and Americans for our regular afternoons of softball on the large green space behind some of our cottages.  We taught him English, and given his good looks, several local gals were rather sweet on him.

As we got older, we stayed out later.  Our parents rigged up lights between our cottage and the next-door neighbour's cottage, so that we could play ping-pong in between the cottages after dark.

Those same neighbours had a shed that they fixed up so we could put a record player (an electronic device on which one could play recorded music at 33 rpm -- revolutions per minute -- or 45 rpm -- get it?!)  The older teens would play DJ (especially my (step)brother, from his wheel chair) and we'd dance on the grass in front of the open door of the shed.

There were corn roasts too -- not every summer, though it felt like that at the time. The men would set up tables and over-head umbrellas (against the sun) and barbecue burgers and weiners.  The women would make all sorts of salads and ensure there was enough buns for the meat, as well as ensuring everyone had enough water/soft drinks (pop or soda for you 'mericans).  And there was watermelon and ice cream to polish it all off.

That was all before...we got older. And 1968 happened, and the War (Viet Nam) and the assassinations (MLK and RFK)...

And we lost our innocence.

My step-father was an Immigration Officer on that border.  His job was to look out for draft dodgers.  I don't think he ever found any, but our arguments were fierce -- he lost 2 fingers on his right hand in WWII and took a bullet through his right arm.  I long ago ceased to be surprised at his outrage -- at his arguing that the Viet Nam war had to be The Right Thing To Do.  But I think, really, he knew it wasn't the same as WWII.

On the other hand...this year, in this time and this place, as Canada's 'mouse' sleeps next to the US 'elephant', trembling lest it roll over on us...

Well...all we can do here is our best.  All we can do is keep those with authoritarian bents, who are being egged on by the infection south of our border -- people like Pierre Poilievre, leader of Canada's Federal Conservative Party; people like Danielle Smith, Premier of Alberta and well-influenced by the Black Hat Movement south in Medicine Hat, infected by the right-wing in Montana; people by the far right premier of Saskatchewan, Scott Moe...

What to do?

• Create beauty every day;
• Love one's neighbour as oneself;
• Give without thought of thanks;
• Feed the hungry;
• Clothe the poor with comforing clothes/blankets/shelter;
• Tell our children (and so many others) we love them;
• Speak truth to power;
• Vote for what is right;
• Highlight corruption;
• Thank God/the Universe/your "higher power" for your life and for your ability to bring light, love and truth to the world.

As Jesus (called the Christ) might have said, "Now, go and do likewise."