How I published a book by Gridiron Greats Hall of Famer Jim Hopson

On May 20, 2022, Jim Hopson, a Canadian Football Hall of Famer, was inducted into Mike Ditka’s Gridiron Greats Hall of Fame at a banquet in Chicago.

Former Chicago Bears NFL coach Mike Ditka’s Hall of Fame recognizes NFL and CFL personnel for their player contributions and charitable work off the field. Jim was president and CEO of the Saskatchewan Roughriders for 10 eventful and successful years, and has volunteered for numerous community organizations including the Saskatchewan Brain Injury Association.

This is the story of how I published a book written by the indomitable, inspiring Jim Hopson.

Running the Riders  - My Decade as CEO of Canada's Team by Jim Hopson with Darrell Davis

One day in early 2015, Darrell Davis, a former long-time sports writer for the Regina Leader-Post, phoned me to inquire about my interest in a book project. “Jim Hopson wants to write a book,” Darrell told me. “I said I would help him. Do you want to publish it?”

The conversation wasn’t as simple as that, and I have liberally paraphrased what we discussed, but that was the gist of it.

I was immediately intrigued.

Anyone who knows anything about sports in Saskatchewan knows the name “Jim Hopson”. Not just that he is a former football player who then led the Riders organization through some turbulent times and toward a profit and a couple of Grey Cup wins during his CEO period, but he is also known as a good guy and a fan favourite. Jim is a big man with a big, friendly personality, who gets things done.

I quickly conversed with my husband, Al, who was helping me in my publishing business at the time. Al would have to agree to this project since he would be the main person to edit this book.

You see, Al had been a copy editor in the sports and news departments of the Regina Leader-Post for decades prior to taking early retirement from his news editor position in 2008. Al was also a sports geek. He could happily spew a long list of sports statistics (alongside his sports editor colleague Rob Vanstone and others at the newspaper), and he had also edited hundreds of Darrell Davis's sports stories over the years as well as two books, Saskatchewan Roughriders – First 100 Years and Regina Pats – A Winning Tradition, for which Darrell Davis was a co-author. I was not surprised when Al quickly signed on to help with this book, which we would come to call Running the Riders: My Decade as CEO of Canada’s Team by Jim Hopson with Darrell Davis.

I had met Jim Hopson briefly at one point prior to this project, but Al knew him on a more personal level. They had both gone to the same high school in Regina and were on the same football team, with Jim a few years ahead of Al. When Jim and his wife Brenda later sent me photos to include in the Running the Riders book, it was a delightful surprise to find the teenage Al peering out of a 1968 Thom Trojans team photo, sitting two rows back and to the left of Jim, who was happily occupying the centre spot in the front row.

1968 Thom Trojans team photo. Jim Hopson is front row centre, #60.
Al Driver is third row, fifth from the right.

By the time Darrell called me in early 2015 about this proposed book project, he had already worked with Jim on creating an outline of the book and Jim had written several chapters in longhand. This handwritten method worked best for Jim, and as Darrell later typed Jim’s words into a computer, Darrell was able to adjust them where needed and add some sports statistics to complete the story.

Shortly after Al and I agreed to take on the project, Darrell provided me with a synopsis, which became the description on the back cover of the Running the Riders book: 

“The Saskatchewan Roughriders were mired in mediocrity, a decent football team that couldn’t advance to the Grey Cup as the franchise worked its way out of financial distress and tried to reconnect with its fan base. In 2004, offensive lineman-turned-educator Jim Hopson was hopeful that the Roughriders directors would hire him as the team’s first full-time president and CEO. He believed that the team, with its incredible fan base, could become a successful business that consistently posted strong annual profits while playing in and winning multiple Grey Cups.

And it happened. After a decade under Hopson’s leadership (2005 to 2015), the Roughriders became the Canadian Football League’s strongest franchise, appearing in four Grey Cup games (winning twice) and selling more team merchandise than the other eight CFL franchises combined. They obliterated their debt and posted a record-setting profit of $10.4 million after winning a hometown Grey Cup in 2013, which has been described as the biggest moment in the 105-year-old team’s history.

Hopson’s book, with the assistance of Darrell Davis (an author and long-time sports writer and Roughriders beat writer at the Regina Leader-Post), describes Hopson’s business plans, the resistance to change within the organization, the interplay with the fans of Rider Nation, difficult decisions made, and the euphoria of winning two league championships.

An emotional man with a firm disposition, Jim Hopson describes the highs and lows that went along with the job and the path he took, professionally and personally, to the biggest office with the franchise known as ‘Canada’s Team’.”

A few months after that initial phone call, Al and I met with Darrell and Jim at a nearby pub to sign our publishing contract and talk more about the project. These three men regularly veered off topic and exchanged tales of the good old days of playing the game, who they each knew, and how those people are doing these days. I didn’t mind. After all, I’d lived with Al for almost 40 years, so I was used to frequent forays into the sports world. He’d taught me all about high school football early on in our marriage, when he was covering that sport for the newspaper, and we’d had season tickets to Riders games in the 1980s – when I found that the most interesting thing on the field was often the players’ butts. Yes, I said it, and it still holds true. The 1980s were not the best years for the Saskatchewan Roughriders. And we were paying a babysitter at the time too – but that’s another story.

Now, back to the meeting with Jim and Darrell…

It was swell. It was a fun get-together that also accomplished our goals of sorting out details of the book’s style, format, selling locations, and more.

DriverWorks Ink publisher Deana Driver with Jim Hopson, Darrell Davis, and Al Driver, ‎June ‎20, ‎2015

The timing was right to publish a book about Jim’s career. He had just retired from the Riders organization and had left the team in a strong position, financially and on the field. We wanted a book out by that fall, in time for Christmas gift-giving, so we worked hard and fast.

I contacted Ian Hamilton, another Leader-Post sports writer, to help Al and me edit the book. He agreed and we were grateful for his additional eyes on the manuscript. Bill Dubecky of Royal Studios had been the Riders’ photographer for decades, and he graciously supplied many photos to use in the book. Erika Folnovic, a local artist, created the beautiful cover design. The Saskatchewan Roughrider organization gave us permission to publish some of their photos and use their team colours, and they later sold books in their stores across the province. Creative Saskatchewan provided us with a book publishing grant to assist with costs. To all these individuals and organizations, we are grateful.

Bad news came in August 2015, at the height of production, when Al was suddenly diagnosed with Stage IV colon cancer. He – and we – decided to fight it and to stay positive. Amid his stints in and out of hospital, our work continued on the book.

Al Driver editing the Running the Riders book Oct 2015

Al edited the final manuscript in early October as Ian and I met and compared notes on the typos or other details we’d each found that needed correction. I put all the pieces together and sent the layouts to Houghton Boston Printers in Saskatoon, a printer we work closely with on most of our nonfiction books. We had a book in our hands on October 30^th, 2015!

Jim Hopson and his wife, Brenda Edwards, and co-contributor Darrell Davis see their new Running the Riders book.

The Running the Riders book was a big hit!

We had to order a reprint after selling 3,400 softcover books in only two months – an extraordinary accomplishment for a little publishing house, but not surprising given the story Jim and Darrell told. We also created hardcover and e-book editions of Running the Riders, which puts our book into the Canadian national bestseller category with more than 5,000 books sold.

Bad news struck again last year when Jim Hopson was diagnosed with Stage IV colon cancer. Strangely, it is the same illness that took Al in early January 2016, but their cancer stories are not the same.

Jim Hopson recently spoke publicly about his cancer diagnosis to Murray McCormick of the Regina Leader-Post in this article about his Gridiron Greats Hall of Fame induction. 

I’ve chatted with Jim a few times in this last year, and I continue to wish him and his family all the best. Anything I could have said that would be helpful, I have said to Jim.

Cancer sucks. That’s a supreme understatement.

Jim Hopson signing more Running the Riders books, Sept. 2021

It has been and is fun, lots of laughs, and quite an honour to work with Jim and Darrell and their Running the Riders book. None of us could have imagined the journey this would take us on, but I know we are all grateful that we came together for this project. Oh, the things we have enjoyed, learned, and shared.

The last words in this blog post go to Darrell Davis and Jim Hopson, as I quote from the epilogue in their Running the Riders book:

Hopson understood his position put him in the forefront of a franchise whose every move is scrutinized, yet he never ducked a question or avoided an issue. When Hopson said he wanted me to help him write this book, I asked him why he chose me, considering that we often had conflicting viewpoints during the years we worked “together.” He said he wanted to write an honest book, but he also wanted to be challenged while relating his uplifting, positive story of growing up in Regina to become the Roughriders’ president. He ultimately gave the book to me on hundreds of hand-written pages for typing and “embellishing.”

That’s how I describe my contributions, considering that I had already written about many of his Riders adventures as part of my newspaper work.

“It was important that when the book was done, people would say it was credible,” Hopson says. “I didn’t try to gloss over the bad stuff by just talking about the good. We had our challenges and there’s no way I would present myself as always making the best decision. I made more good decisions than bad decisions, but if you’re going to be a leader, you had better expect that you’re going to have challenges.”

(Signed copies of Running the Riders by Jim Hopson with Darrell Davis are available here.)

A Family Connection or Just a Good Story

I meet the neatest people in the course of my work as a writer and book publisher.

A gentleman in British Columbia contacted me about a fascinating pilot I should interview for Volume 3 of the Flight book series about people involved in Canadian aviation.

I agree that this man's stories are fascinating and worthy of recording and publishing in my book series. But that's not the cool thing that happened today...

The gentleman I spoke with is Harry Driver. Yes. Driver. Same last name as mine. No relation to my family as far as I know.

Or is there?

Although we've never met and never spoken before, Harry joked that he says this about me: "At least we have one talented person in our family!"

I laughed and replied that I only joined the Driver family by marriage (45 years ago), but I will gladly accept his compliment.

Then Harry and I talked a little about our respective Driver family histories.

Harry's family story is one of three Driver brothers - Charlie, Art and Fred - who came to Canada from England. A fourth brother died in the war.

My late husband Al's grandfather also came to Canada from England. I joked that we might be related. I told Harry a story about how Al and I watched an episode of the TV show "Who Do You Think You Are" many years ago in which actress Minnie Driver was searching for her family's roots.

Near the end of that show, a photo popped up on the TV screen showing a man who was related to Minnie. My husband Al quickly stopped the TV recording we were watching and ran from the room. He came back in carrying a photo of what I swear was the same man - or perhaps a twin of the man on the TV screen! This man in the photo Al was holding was a relative of his grandfather, I think, but we were never able to corroborate that because Al's father had passed away and his mother was unable to verify the details.

Al and I mused about possibly being related to a celebrity and then carried on with our lives. We never got around to searching his family's genealogy.

After speaking with Harry Driver of B.C. about the gentleman he thinks I should interview - Doc Payne - I typed up a few notes about our conversation plus what we agreed were the next steps in the process of getting this story for Volume 3 or 4 of the Flight book.

As I was typing, it hit me - Art!

One of Harry's relatives was Art Driver! Al's grandfather was Arthur Driver!

I grabbed our children's baby books to find our family tree details. Arthur Driver of our family came from a different community in England - three hours north of where Harry's family originated. Is there a connection? Could they be from the same family? Or is it fluke? Or a coincidence? Or just a happy conversation about possibilities?

As a follow-up to our conversation, Harry kindly sent me a family history that one of his cousins compiled. His family's Arthur is not from my family's direct line, but their Arthur and his two brothers served in the First World War at Vimy Ridge and Passchendaele (Al's grandfather also served) and they all returned to homestead in Saskatchewan. A small world indeed.

After our conversation, Harry invited his family historian cousin to share some of her research with me.

I then received a detailed email from Harry's cousin Mary, who included some letters she received from Driver families in Saskatchewan whom she contacted in 1978 when researching her family's history.

Among them was a nice surprise - a letter in my late father-in-law's handwriting as he stated "I DO NOT KNOW IF WE ARE RELATED. THE ONLY INFORMATION I HAVE REGARDING MY ANCESTRY GOES BACK TO MY GRANDPARENTS." (Dad always wrote in beautifully sculpted capital letters.) He then relayed information about his family's background - which at first glance appears to not be from the same family tree, but Mary explained that "Driver" is a common name in England and if I can trace my husband's family back to a certain town in England, there is a possibility that we are relatives.

Mary then went on to tell me another connection to me or, more specifically, my work as an author and book publisher. Mary lived in southern Saskatchewan before moving to British Columbia. Her father's cousin is related to Graham Warner. "I am familiar with your book Never Leave Your Wingman and the story of Dionne's brave struggle with cancer. I was sorry to hear of her passing recently. What a legacy she left!"

It's been a wonderful series of communications that began with a possible story for the next volume of the Flight book and our conversations are only beginning. I've invited myself to visit these Drivers in B.C. the next time I am in that region visiting my sister.

It seems fitting that the last word should go to my new friend and possible relative many times removed, Mary Driver, formerly of Saskatchewan: "It is a small world, isn't it?"

Grief is a tunnel - you have to go through it

A few times a year for the past two years, I have volunteered as a peer helper at spousal bereavement support group sessions. After each session, I have been moved by the stories I've heard, the pain and sadness that I've seen, and the struggles of the bereaved to carry on with their lives alone - as most of the ones I help are widowers or widows like me with adult children who live away from home.

These sessions affect me. During and afterwards.

During the sessions, I struggle with talking. I want to be sure that I listen and only speak when my perspective might be helpful to the others in the room. I speak based on my own experiences but not in any way to give advice.

Afterwards, I struggle with the triggers that hit me from what I saw, heard, and felt during these sessions. I find myself reliving the events of my own loss, the painfulness of my husband's sudden illness and subsequent death three and a half years ago, and the deep grief I felt for a long time and I am still feeling to a lesser degree.

To get through these feelings, I often sit in my vehicle after each bereavement group session and I think about some of the discussion that unfolded. I sometimes feel sad, for myself and for others (notice the order there). I sometimes cry. And sometimes I'm okay. Often, I just need some quiet time away from my home and work to reboot before returning to my daily life.

Often, I will go to a park in the city (our city has many beautiful parks) and take a walk or just sit in my vehicle and stare at the trees and water. Trees and water are calming for me. I need them in my life.

I'll take photos of what I see. It helps me mentally return to and stay in the land of the living.

 
Hundreds of books have been published about grief. I published one of them. (In fact, the Dear Me: The Widow Letters book compiled by Dianne Young was recently shown at a session by a group participant as an example of a book that has really helped her learn what it's like to be a widow and carry on. I was one of the 20 widows in Dear Me who wrote a letter of support and encouragement back to her newly widowed self.)

What I've learned through reading and the bereavement counselling I've received is that we cannot go around grief, only through it.

Grief is like a big, dark tunnel with a mountain on one side and a cliff on the other. The only way forward is through it. 

It helps to have others alongside, supporting you on your journey as you go through the tunnel. If you're lucky, they'll even pick you up and give you a ride for a bit so you don't have to go through it all alone.

As hard as the grief journey is, I am grateful for the amazing people who have supported and continue to support me as I make my way through my grief tunnel.

Some tunnels are longer than others and some people go through faster. We are each unique, our relationships were unique. Our journeys are thus different yet similar.

I've been asked why I continue to put myself through the emotional upheaval of being a peer helper at bereavement groups and at times, I consider not continuing.

But I know how important bereavement support has been to me. I could not have gone through that tunnel nearly as quickly or with as much strength without the information and assistance I received from others. 

So I give back, in gratitude for what I've received. One of the richest blessings of my life was 42 busy, fun, crazy, frustrating, wonderful years with my departed husband Al. It feels right to continue to say his name and share our story in a way that can help others celebrate the love they've lost, while giving them the tools and strength to carry on.



P.S. The next all-day grief retreat in Regina, SK for newly bereaved persons is July 27/19. See poster below and please share with others.

P.S.S.  Other blogs I've written to help others who are bereaved:
         -  http://driverworks.blogspot.com/2016/02/what-ive-learned-about-grief.html
         -  http://driverworks.blogspot.com/2018/12/getting-through-holidays-while-grieving.html

Getting Through the Holidays While Grieving

For the last couple of weeks, I've been thinking about writing a blog with tips on how to get through the holidays when you are grieving ... but I honestly didn't have the emotional strength to do that until now.

It takes energy to write and even though I've been a writer for the last 35 years, it's been a struggle to put words into order since my husband, Al, passed away almost three years ago. Colon cancer was the cause. Frickin' cancer.

Okay, enough about that. I am fine. Most days. I am carrying on the best that I can while missing him every day but being grateful for the life we had together.

I am fine.

But you might not be.

Grief can be heightened during special occasions such as birthdays, anniversaries, and holidays. I learned a lot about grief in my work as a journalist and in my reading and experiences after Al died. I wrote about these lessons a month after he died, and I will repeat some of the ones that are specific to Christmas, New Year's Eve, and other special occasions.

Be kind to yourself. It may be helpful to go to some events so you don't spend all your time alone, but give yourself permission to say "no, thank you" if it feels wrong to attend something on a particular day. For example, I did not go to our church's "quiet Christmas" service this year. I was not feeling sad for a change, so why bring sadness into a good day when I had experienced so many sad moments already?

Breathe. Take long, deep breaths, especially when you feel overwhelmed by invitations or expectations. For the first few months after Al's death, I often stopped walking - just stopped - and concentrated on taking three deep breaths - one ... two ... three - to regroup. There is scientific proof that deep breathing helps our body to release anxiety and stress. Taking some deep breaths is one of the easiest ways to keep going when you think you can't go anymore.

Left foot, right foot. In the early days of my grieving, this is the only way I could function - by telling myself to breathe and to put one foot in front of the other to get through this moment, then get through the next moment. Take one step at a time, make one decision at a time, and don't let others tell you what to think or do or how to feel.

Feel your feelings. If you feel sad or angry or upset or confused, it's okay to express it. It's okay to cry - anywhere. This doesn't mean you will feel this way forever. Bottling it up will delay healing and no one wants that. Do not apologize for how you feel. Apologize if you hurt someone while you are feeling, though. If possible, choose who you are with as you feel your feelings. (See 'Be kind to yourself' above.)

Rest. We concentrate too much on achievement and not enough on self-care. When grieving, self-care is essential. Rest does not necessarily mean getting a good night's sleep. That is elusive when you are in the midst of deep grief. If you cannot slow your overthinking mind enough to have a nap, try sitting in a comfortable chair or lying down for a few minutes. Close your eyes and turn off your brain for a short break. Rest.

Pre-arrange transportation. When grieving, it is important to have some control over your ability to come and go from parties and other holiday gatherings. If you suddenly feel overwhelmed or too sad to stay, have a friend or family member drive you home. Be careful not to drive when in the depths of grief as your mind may not be fully focused on the road. Be kind to yourself and others.

A bereavement support program gave me this helpful brochure:

The brochure's tips from Kelly and Karin Baltzell are:

• Pace yourself 
• To say 'No' is okay 
• Pamper yourself 
• Tell people what you need 
• Make new rituals 
• Honor traditions 
• Remember your physical needs 
• Tell others exactly what holidays are important to you 
• Crying is okay 
• Make action plans 
• Consult your family and friends 
• Lean on your faith

To help ensure our first Christmas without Al was a little less painful and full of dread, I suggested to our children that we each make a donation to a charity that we thought he would like. On Christmas morning, we celebrated his life by telling each other the donation we made, of cash or something else, in his memory and why we chose that charity. The amount of each donation wasn't mentioned. It was not important. We had contributed to a worthy cause in our communities in memory of a great man.

We smiled and even laughed. And we cried, of course. Tears of love.

I wish that for you this holiday season - that you get through it the best way you can while remembering your loved one and taking care of yourself.

Happy holidays!

Do they celebrate Valentine's Day in Heaven?

Today is Valentine's Day, a day we are supposed to celebrate the one person who loves us and whom we love. For many people, it's just another day. No big deal. And that is as it should be.

Why put pressure on ourselves if we happen to be single, without a partner, on February 14th?

Wait until tomorrow, buy yourself a box of chocolates on sale, and carry on.

My late husband Al and I rarely celebrated Valentine's Day. We preferred to tell each other "I love you" every day and we avoided the commercialism of Valentine's Day after our first few years of marriage.

February 14th was always special in another way, though, because it is my mom's birthday. She was a Valentine's Day baby, but she rarely celebrated it.

In our Ukrainian-Polish farm family, we didn't make a big deal about birthdays. If someone wished us a happy birthday or we received a gift of pyjamas or maybe a candy bar or - wow! - a cake, that was about it for a celebration. In fact, a celebration was unusual. As we got older, we sometimes were allowed to invite a friend to take the bus home from school and sleep over at our house. That's a celebration in itself to farm kids. 

In Al's English-Irish city family, birthdays were a HUGE deal! Your birthday day was "all about you" and you didn't even have to do dishes that day! What a shock to my system.

Poor Al. His farm-kid wife never really understood this concept. It took him most of our married life to convince me that I was worth fussing over on my birthday. My kids have since taken over that burden to make me feel special, and they're doing a fine job of it.

Today, I am alone but not alone. My beautiful daughter-in-law Kelli dropped by with a lemon loaf that she knows I like, and we shared hugs and a nice visit.

I'm going for a pedicure with my youngest daughter Dani after work. It will be the first pedicure for her and we are excited. I have also connected with our son, our oldest daughter, and the other in-laws. Everyone is fine.

And in honour of love today, I put on a new shirt covered with a dragonflies pattern - a fascinating creature that reminds me of my late mom and my dear departed husband.

I hope they are dancing together in Heaven. I'm sure Al is making sure that today is all about Mom. Do they do dishes in Heaven?

My parents, me and Al, Al's parents in the late 1990s

GRIEF AND LOVE ARE INTERTWINED

July 4, 2017 - A couple hours from now will mark 18 months since my wonderful husband, Al, left this earth to join the rest of the angels. (I can see some of you snickering right now because there were pieces of Al's personality that weren't exactly angelic ... and he would roll his eyes at that first sentence, I'm sure ... but none of us are perfect either and I believe his hug-filled, loving spirit is in a beautiful place right now, doing God's work.)

Anyway ... as I was saying...
​
Like the rose I planted in Al's memory, I and our children (and our closest family and friends) have had ups and downs these past 18 months. We've had moments of blossoming and beauty, and moments of wilting and falling apart. We are continuing to live our lives though, one moment at a time, one day at a time, one season at a time, and we thank you for standing by us and nurturing us, especially when we needed it most.

​We are healing. Grieving still, but healing a bit more every day. 

Our children and I have honoured Al in our own ways - with words both written and spoken, with plants and other memorials, with donations to charities he would love, and in trying to be the best people we can be. We will continue to keep his name on our lips and in our hearts as we move forward in our lives without him.

I've learned that grief is more about love than it is about loss. Yes, we miss the one who died, but we wouldn't grieve them if we didn't love them.

We grieve because we loved. They are intertwined and will always be so.

" 'Tis better to have loved and lost / Than never to have loved at all," wrote Lord Alfred Tennyson. I agree.
​
I and many of you won't forget Al or our story together. I wouldn't have it any other way. He was a big, bold, rambunctious blessing to me and to so many others, including many of you who are reading this. Thank you for helping me, our children, and our closest family and friends get through these 18 months.

​We will be fine. He wouldn't want it any other way.

Let's carry on.

In full bloom, the Winnipeg Parks rose bush purchased and planted in our yard in memory of Al.

GROWING AND BLOSSOMING FROM A GRIEF RETREAT

This post was written on July 23, 2017. 

Yesterday was a good day. There were many moments of sadness, tears, and sorrow, but there were also moments of healing, laughter, and grace. It was good.
​
I am grateful for any "good" part of any day that has come my way since my husband died in January 2016. Anyone who knew my fun-loving, hug-giving Al knows that my life isn't nearly as "good" or as funny now as it has been for the last 40 years with him by my side. But I am trying, and yesterday was a big step towards more healing, learning, and peace as I was one of about 60 people who participated in the first-ever, full-day Heart 2 Heart Family Grief Retreat hosted by Palliative Care Services of the Regina and Qu’Appelle Health Region. It was fabulous.

We spent most of the day in group sessions that were specific to our type of loss and age group.

The session in which we shared our individual stories of losing our spouse was one of the hardest parts of the day. It was an important exercise that led to more healing, but many of us found it extremely painful to talk again about our losses – all involving palliative care circumstances – and to listen to the stories of the others in the room. However, telling the story is an important part of the process of grieving.

This sharing forged a strong, almost instant bond among us. We built on that as we attended workshops, yoga, meditation, made pebble art, exchanged information and fun stories about our loved ones, ate snacks and meals, discussed coping strategies, and so much more.

I was exhausted emotionally and physically at the end of the day, but the memories and the toolkit of tips and reminders that I carried home were priceless.

I was reminded that I am not alone on this grief journey. Others are also hurting, but there is help available if we are brave enough to seek it. Talking to other widows and widowers can be painful but helpful as they have also experienced the excruciating loss of a life partner. They do not judge; they listen and support. These are difficult skills to learn and put into action. I’m still working on them myself.

We received a wonderful handout with information from Victoria Hospice.​ I will read this handout many times over the coming days and months, and check other resources online and with a counsellor to continue with the process of grieving and healing.

I was reminded about the tips in my own blog post, “What I’ve Learned About Grief”, that I wrote just one month after Al died. I decided it would be important to share that information again because it could help someone. (Here’s the link.) I was reminded to reread my own blog post and to try to live those words, being gentle with myself – especially in my sadder, lonelier moments.

I learned about the power of self-compassion meditation from a Regina meditation instructor who also told us of the meditations of Tara Brach, available online. The instructor led us in an exercise where we placed our hands, one on top of the other, over our hearts and tuned into our breathing and feelings. The theory is that you let your thoughts float gently through your mind without judgment and you concentrate on your breath, just being in the moment for a few precious minutes of your busy day.

We talked later about how, when we lose our spouse, intimacy in the form of a daily hug or touch of a hand on the shoulder or arm is gone. We need to learn to be kind and compassionate to ourselves. We learned that touching our own hand, stroking our own cheek, or holding our hands over our heart can calm us and give us comfort. This 15-minute exercise helped many of us and gave a name to something I had found myself doing often when I felt anxious or sad. I learned this hands-over-heart idea a few months ago from my dear friend Susan. I did not know it had a name or a specific, science-based purpose until now. I was grateful for this meditation session.

On my way back to the retreat sessions from the park where we meditated, I noticed an abundance of beautiful flowers on the edge of the community garden nearby. I had sat by the other side of this large garden earlier in the day during a moment of grief after I saw all the photos of deceased loved ones, including a photo of my Al, on a memorial table. My mind quickly said, “He doesn’t belong there,” but I’m sure every other person at that retreat thought the same about their loved one. Still, the sight of Al's photo on a table with about 40 other photos hit me in an unexpected moment and I went outside and cried, stared at the garden, collected myself, then went back inside.

I had not noticed the flowers at the edge of the garden until then.

​I stopped to not only smell the roses but to take some photos.

Flowers make me smile and, at that moment, this garden was the fitting end to the meditation session. Flowers are colourful and full of life. They give me pause and hope for the future.​

We ended the day with a memorial service for our loved ones. We wrote their name or a note or a wish to them on a small paper “ornament” and hung it on a tree as we entered the chapel. We listened to inspirational words, in prose and poetry, sang a song with piano and guitar accompaniment, stared at our lit candles, and sat in silence. 

“Grieving is hard work,” a friend and pastor reminds me regularly. So yesterday was a good day of hard work.

​​I left the retreat grateful for the counsellors, leaders and volunteers who did so much to make it a good day; for the other participants who shared their stories and wisdom so freely; and for my family, who supported me with a debriefing and constant love as I made my way one more step along this road that we did not choose.

This summer when I was visiting my oldest daughter and her family, I bought a garden stone that sums up this story.

Gardening brings me peace. ​Gardening is good.

We are never sure of what tomorrow may bring, but we can carry on and live in hope, with the help of others. 

PRAIRIE FARM STORIES OF SELLING CREAM TEACH US WHILE CELEBRATING THE PAST

In 2015, I wrote this "Read My Book" piece for Regina and Saskatoon newspapers to introduce readers to the fascinating anthology Cream Money: Stories of Prairie People. The book has been popular, due to its sharing of Prairie history and memories of the old days on the farm:

We can learn much from the people around us. Whether they are family, friends, acquaintances or people we have just met, there are stories to be told and lessons to be learned. This concept has been a driving force in my work as a freelance journalist for more than 30 years and has followed me into the field of book writing, editing and publishing.

In 2011, when I began working with the Saskatoon German Days Committee to help them create their book Egg Money: A Tribute to Saskatchewan Pioneer Women, I commented that they could also publish a book called Cream Money, since cream money was another important income source for farm women in days gone by. Of course, their Egg Money book is based on a statue of that name in downtown Saskatoon, so “Cream Money” did not make sense as a project for them.

So in 2014, my husband and publishing partner Al Driver and I decided to invite writers to send us their stories of selling cream and other interesting tales from past decades of farming on the Prairies. We collected 29 short stories and two poems from 30 Prairie writers, including myself.

My mother, Sabinka Staszewski, came to Canada from Poland in August 1929. She was two years old and made the 12-day voyage by ship with her mother, father and three siblings (ages eight years, six years, and six weeks - see photo below). After arrival in Halifax, Nova Scotia, they headed west by train to what would become their new home in Athabasca, Alberta, 95 miles north of Edmonton.

The family spent their first two winters living in a hole in the ground. Literally.

During the First World War, my grandfather had seen houses that were dug into the hills of Romania. There were no hills on the Alberta farmland he’d purchased, so he adapted this idea and created the first dugout house anyone had seen in that region. Their dugout house was four feet deep, eight feet wide, and 14 feet long. A small wood-burning cook stove and oven was used for cooking and warmth. Their large trunk was their only other piece of furniture until my grandfather constructed a long bench.

One of the first items my grandparents purchased in town to add to their meagre possessions was a young Holstein cow named Jenny, to supply the family with milk. Cow’s milk was an essential item on every farm in those days, especially for a growing family. 

Other parts of my family’s story include the fact that my father, also an immigrant, and his siblings were punished for speaking Ukrainian in school. Until they could afford their own cow, my grandmother helped milk a neighbour’s cows so she could bring a quart of milk home for her own family each day.

These are lessons that we can learn from and stories which need to be told to preserve not only our history but to teach the next generation. Other stories within the pages of Cream Money tell of hard work, of children and mice falling into milk cans, of saving cream money for essential items such as teeth repair, of sending the cream cans to town by train, and relishing the rich desserts made with farm-fresh cream.

On days when I am tempted to feel gloomy, I remember the story of the dugout house. Life in Canada is good. Let’s keep sharing those stories.

Cream Money: Stories of Prairie People is available from www.driverworks.ca, McNally Robinson Booksellers, Chapters, Indigo, Coles, and other select retailers. 

Here's a link to my blog about the fun book launch we had for the book!