Celebrating Landon’s Graduation: A Journey of Love and Grief

Today was one of those days with a lot of emotion that I didn’t see coming.

Landon graduated from high school and his ceremony was a highlight for me. Watching him walk across that stage, diploma in hand, confidence radiating from his steady steps, was heart-stirring. He has worked so hard to get here and carried a heavier course load than he needed. His determination, faith, and kind heart shone brightly. With awards in his hand and being selected Student of the Year and Valedictorian, pride doesn’t even begin to cover how I felt watching him take this big step forward. It was one of those moments where time seemed to freeze.

Sitting there watching Landon, I thought about how proud Brenda, Landon’s Grammy, would be. Landon’s not just graduating from high school; he’s stepping into all the potential she always saw in him. As I prayed for him Sunday morning, I almost heard her voice, “Keep cheering him on! This is just the beginning.”

Like all significant moments in life, today wasn’t simple. I felt a pang of nostalgia mixed with my joy today. It’s funny how, as parents or grandparents, we tend to see not just who they are in front of us but all they’ve been up until now. I remembered a toddler who used to tweak a door stopper spring and then laugh hysterically, now stepping into a new chapter of his own life. And as proud as I felt, my thoughts circled back to Brenda. Brenda would have been beaming – no question about it. She had this knack for showing pride so big it made others feel like they were in the spotlight too. She wasn’t just a cheerleader; she was the sort of person who made you feel capable of greatness.

His Grammy for sure would’ve been the loudest one at his grad ceremony. I know she would’ve risen out of her seat, hollering “Yay LANDY!” with complete abandon, the way only she could. I could almost hear her laugh and see that proud smile she reserved for moments like this.

Brenda would’ve adored who he’s becoming. She always had a way of spotting potential in others before it even had the chance to bloom, and there’s no doubt she saw that in Landon. I imagine her pulling him aside after the ceremony and saying something wise but laced with humour, just to remind him to stay grounded. And then she’d hug him, hug him tight, but he never minded that.

It’s no stretch to say Brenda played a big role in shaping our family’s legacy of love, persistence, and belief in one another. Her presence, even years after she passed, is still such a grounding force. She had a way of making the ordinary feel extraordinary, something I often see reflected in Landon. Watching him cross that stage, I thought about how proud she would’ve been—not just for the tassel turn or his speech but for what it represented. Graduations aren’t just academic milestones; they’re about persistence, growth, and stepping into the unknown with courage.

Going into church today, I tried to share my feelings with Jason and Kristin (Landon’s mom and dad). I thought I could describe the thankfulness and gratitude I’d been pouring out to God for their son, but as I started to speak, the words caught in my throat. The tears came suddenly. It was as though everything hit me at once. The pride, the missing piece, the tender reminder that grief and joy often exist together. You think you’re okay, that you’ve processed everything, and then a moment comes, a memory, and it’s like the Grief Committee decided to hold an unannounced meeting right as I walked into a church full of people.

My wife, Glenda, gently reminded me that this wasn’t just a graduation; it was another “first” on my grief journey. Landon is the first grandchild to graduate since Brenda, passed. Her absence, though not mentioned explicitly, was very much present.

Brenda would have loved all this. Oh, how she would have loved it. She was a woman who celebrated every milestone with gusto, whether it was as small as a child learning to tie their skates or as significant as a graduation moment like this. She had a way of making people feel deeply seen and wildly capable.

I see her in Landon today—not just in his accomplishments but in the way he carried himself. His focus, his kindness, his groundedness. These were all qualities she nurtured in him whenever they were together. She had this ability to look right into people’s hearts and remind them of God’s goodness already living there.

Glenda’s gentle words this morning stayed with me all day. This was a “first” without Grammy, yes, but it was also a moment to carry her legacy forward. And we did—we laughed and celebrated the way she would have, and, yes, cried just like she might’ve if she’d been with us.

The truth is, grief wears so many faces. Some days, it feels like a weight you can’t lift. Other days, it’s a quiet shadow, lingering at the edges of even your happiest moments. And some days, like today, it melts into the moments you hold dear, reminding you that the best way to honour the love you’ve lost is to allow it to continue shaping your life. At the graduation party, I was overwhelmed by a mixture of emotions I hadn’t entirely prepared for. There was the evident pride in Landon. There was gratitude for Glenda, who saw connections and truths I missed. And there were bittersweet and unrelenting tears that spoke to how deeply Brenda’s life continues to resonate with our family.

If there was a single takeaway from today, it’s the reminder that life’s significant “firsts” will always nudge us to reflect. They show us how far we’ve come, who we’ve loved, and how much we carry them forward. And sometimes, like on the way into church, those reflections come with raw emotion we can’t hold back.

For Landon, this event was monumental. For us, his family, it was, too, because it gave us a chance to remember, celebrate, and love in the ways Brenda would have championed. Landon’s future is bright—Glenda and I can see it just as clearly as Brenda would have. And as we cheer him on to the next step in his life, I can’t help but hope that we all find moments to celebrate the people we love. Whether you’re marking a milestone, supporting someone through their “first,” or just choosing to reach out, remember that these efforts shape the legacies we leave.

And for those of you who, like me, still find yourself caught off guard by the layers of grief, I’ll offer this piece of what I learned today. Give yourself grace when joy and sadness mingle. Feel it all, knowing that love doesn’t just disappear when someone is gone; it transforms and continues, carried forward in moments like these. Today was one of those moments—for Landon, for Brenda, and for all of us.

Remembering My Father, 25 Years Later

It’s been 25 years since my father passed, yet there are days when his laugh, warm and full of life, feels as if it’s just out of earshot. Dad was the sort of person who loved family, gardening and—perhaps most distinctly—orchids. Oh, and flying. And singing. And God. Actually, the list gets pretty long, now that I think about it. But that’s the kind of man he was—a life bursting at the seams with interests and passions, all wrapped in this Irish personality that you couldn’t help but admire—and occasionally eye-roll at.

Yes, my dad had what I often call a “Belfast look.” Big and sturdy, with massive fists and a serious air that could be downright intimidating until he opened his mouth. That’s when the funniest, most unexpected line would sail out and completely disarm you. He had a gift for wit and a knack for humour, as though it was his spiritual mission to keep those around him slightly off-balance but always entertained.

The Greenhouse Respite

Growing orchids in a freezing Manitoba winter requires a unique combination of patience and stubbornness, both of which my father had in spades. I can still picture him in his greenhouse, tending to his flower “babies” with meticulous care. It was his restorative haven. He’d often tell me, “You can rush a lot of things in life, but orchids aren’t one of them.” I didn’t tell him at the time, but I loved going into that greenhouse when he wasn’t around—the warmth, the smell of damp earth, the delicate beauty of those flowers—it all felt alive in a way I didn’t quite understand as a kid.

But of course, Dad’s nurturing hand in the greenhouse didn’t extend to all plants. One memory involves a wayward row of tomato plants that refused to cooperate and grow. “For heaven’s sake,” he bellowed one day, “if you don’t start showing growth, you’re going straight to the compost heap!” He was not entirely joking.

The Transformation

Dad was always religious, and his dedication to church, choir, and faith permeated our upbringing. But something remarkable happened when I was seventeen—a shift that turned his faith into something deeper, more profound. God became real to him in a way it hadn’t before, and it changed him.

Suddenly, the faith that had always seemed structured and dutiful transformed into something vibrant and alive. He became gentler, more reflective, and unshakeably at peace. It wasn’t that his humour or wit disappeared—thankfully, those stayed intact—but there was a different weight to his words, a new sense of purpose behind his actions. I would wake up early in the morning and find him sitting in his wing chair reading his Bible and making notes. There was something so peaceful about that.

Being the youngest, I witnessed this transformation up close. My two older brothers and I have since talked about how we each grew up in almost different homes, shaped by his and Mom’s evolving lives. By the time I was the only one left at home, I had the privilege of seeing this renewed version of him every day. It was as though his faith had moved from something he practiced to something he lived, and that left a lasting impression on me.

Voices in Harmony

Music wasn’t just a hobby for my dad; it was a language. Between church choir rehearsals and his time in a Barbershop Quartet, a good chunk of his week involved singing. If you’ve never heard a Barbershop Quartet practice, imagine four very determined men standing uncomfortably close, debating harmonies and occasionally striking a note so beautiful it would stop you in your step. My dad absolutely loved it.

Some of my earliest memories involve standing next to him at church, trying to keep up as he effortlessly filled the sanctuary with a deep bass, resonant voice that seemed to come straight from his soul. He joked that God gave the Irish their voices so we’d be forgiven for everything else.

The Aviator

And then, there was the flying. Dad’s eyes sparkled most when he talked about his years as a flying instructor during World War II. He didn’t share many war stories, but when he did, they were less about the danger and more about the boys who came through his cockpit. He taught them how to handle planes with precision and respect—two things I imagine could describe how he handled life itself.

Even after the war, his love for the sky never faded. It’s one of the few places where I think he felt completely free. He let me take the controls when I was just ten and we would practice landing atop the clouds. Still today, when I hear the distant drone of a Cessna overhead, I can’t help but think of him.

Lessons That Last

Dad wasn’t perfect—none of us are. But he carried a strong sense of faith and a belief in bettering the world around him, even if it meant starting with a single stubborn orchid in the middle of winter. He opened our home to others and helped people get back on their feet. He taught me that laughter could diffuse tension, that dedication is a form of love, and that singing—regardless of how you sound—connects you to something eternal. More than that, though, witnessing his transformation taught me that it’s never too late for faith to deepen and for life to become richer.

Twenty-five years is a long time, but the memories of who he was and what he loved remain vivid. Flowers, the songs, the skies—they all tell his story. If there’s a choir in heaven or a greenhouse that needs tending, I have no doubt he’s making himself indispensable up there, and making everyone smile along the way.

It’s been a long time since we have shared a Guinness together, but here’s to you, Dad. Your DNA runs strong in my family and you would be so proud of your clann and your great grandkids would have you wrapped around their fingers. You’re greatly missed but remembered with a smile—and occasionally an eye-roll.

It’s Time For Men to Break Out Of Their Shell and Make Room for Friendship

There’s a common stereotype that men don’t need friends, that they don’t have time for friendship, or that it isn’t an important part of their lives. This is a damaging narrative that needs to be corrected. The truth is that friendships are just as important for men as they are for women, and the benefits of having strong friendships far outweigh any excuses not to make time for them.

The Benefits of Friendship

Having strong friendships can provide numerous benefits such as increased mental health, improved self-esteem, greater emotional support, and even better physical health. People with strong friendships tend to live longer than those without, and those who actively maintain their social networks tend to enjoy more fulfilling lives overall. Furthermore, having strong relationships can help men become better leaders in their professional lives. Studies have shown that people who cultivate meaningful relationships with others are more likely to be successful in business and leadership roles.

Respecting the Depth of Friendship

When it comes to building real connections with other people, there needs to be a certain level of respect and trust in order for the relationship to flourish. Respect is essential because it encourages both parties involved to open up about themselves and share personal experiences without fear of judgement or ridicule. This kind of depth helps create an environment where individuals feel comfortable enough to talk openly about their challenges and successes with each other. It also allows them to build meaningful relationships over time by growing together through shared experiences—both good and bad—and learning from each other along the way.

Activities That Bring Friends Together

Making room for friendship doesn’t necessarily mean spending hours pouring your heart out on a park bench every day; it could simply mean carving out some quality time with friends on a regular basis for activities like playing video games or sports together; going out for drinks or dinner; watching movies; exploring new places; attending events or conferences; taking classes together; trying out new recipes at home; or just catching up over coffee or tea on weekends. These activities allow people to build lasting friendships while having fun at the same time!

Earlier, an interview aired on the television show 100 Huntley Street about the friendship I share with Bob Kuhn and David Bentall. In it we talk about the mutual sharing of weakness as a foundation of authentic friendship. Take a look using the link below. (It starts at the 4:30 mark on the broadcast).

What is Keeping You?

Men should prioritize friendship in their lives and actively seek opportunities to engage with friends. Building meaningful connections with those around us is essential for mental, emotional, and physical health. Spending time with close friends can help us feel more connected, reduce stress, and boost our moods.

Additionally, it's important to be mindful of our relationships with family members and show them the same attention as we do our closest friends. For the past three years, I have been calling my brothers each Sunday night just to stay in touch. I also phone my mother-in-law regularly to check in on how she is doing.

Making room in our lives for friendship is essential if we want true fulfillment. Not only do friendships offer countless benefits, but they also encourage us to grow into healthier versions of ourselves when we surround ourselves with people who genuinely care about us and vice versa. So go ahead, break out of your shell—it’s time you reap all the rewards friendship has waiting for you!

June 12: Inverted and Intertwined

Today, my heart is a wee bit heavy yet filled with gratitude as I reflect on this day. It marks the anniversary of my dear brother Ed’s passing three years ago and my ordination thirty-six years ago. This duality of grief and recognition brings a unique complexity to my emotions.

Losing a sibling is a profound sorrow that leaves an indelible mark on your soul. Ed was more than a biological brother to me; he was a fellow believer, a friend, and a source of imaginative ideas and loyal support to all his friends. His faith in God was a beacon of light during his most challenging times, providing him the courage to face adversity with grace and strength.

When I think of Ed, I often think of flying. Our last time together in Vancouver, hours were spent plane-watching. You see Ed was an air cadet as a youth, a pilot, and a balloon pilot. However, it was on MS Flight Sim that he logged the most miles. He showed me how we could be online together even at a distance, and while doing that, he suddenly appeared inverted beside me in a Top Gun kind of manouver. After his physical mobility was limited, he followed all my flights, asked me to send him the flight number, and then tracked me online to my destination.

One cherished memory I often revisit is our Sunday video chats – all three brothers on a video chat where we talked for hours about life, memories, very different experiences growing up with the same parents, and our shared faith. Those moments were simple yet profoundly meaningful, a testament to our bond. I miss his laughter, his creative often crazy ideas, and his gentle spirit every single day.

As I also celebrate my ordination anniversary today, I am reminded how deeply intertwined these are. Ed’s unwavering belief in my calling and constant encouragement played a significant role in my journey to becoming a minister, mentor and leader.

This day will always be a poignant reminder of loss and love, of pain and purpose. Though Ed is no longer with us, his legacy lives on in the lives he touched and in the faith that continues to guide me.

May all who have lost a brother or sister find strength in our memories and inspiration in our shared journeys.

PS: In the Mentored Podcast, Martin Sanders and I have two conversations about grief that you may find helpful.

Embracing Love: A Grandfather’s Reunion with His Grandson

There are certain threads of connection that weave hearts together in a dance of love and understanding. For me, this was found in a touching reunion I had with my six-year-old grandson, a moment that tugged at my emotions and stirred the depths of my soul.

Walking up to his school, the air electric with anticipation, I awaited the moment that would reunite us. As I laid eyes on him, his face lit up with recognition and joy, and in an instant, time seemed to stand still. He ran towards me, and our embrace spoke volumes, a language of love that transcended words.

Our bond is special, forged from shared moments of laughter, making movies, reading books, whispered secrets, and unfiltered honesty. It’s a bond that defies explanation, rooted in unconditional love and mutual respect. In his presence, I find a mirror reflecting back the essence of life’s simplicity and beauty.

It’s a bond that defies explanation, rooted in unconditional love and mutual respect.

There’s something magical about the connection between a grandfather and grandson. It’s a blend of wisdom passed down through generations and the fresh perspective of a child. Together, we navigate the world, each learning from the other in a dance of give and take.

Picking him up from school was not just a task; it was a journey back to our shared memories and the promise of new adventures. In his innocent gaze, I see the purity of a soul unburdened by the world’s complexities, and it fills me with hope.

As we walked hand in hand, I pondered on the essence of our bond. Perhaps it’s the shared laughter, the stories told, or simply the comfort of knowing that we are there for each other no matter what. Whatever it may be, it’s a bond that transcends time, distance, and circumstance.

As we walked hand in hand, I pondered on the essence of our bond. Perhaps it’s the shared laughter, the stories told, or simply the comfort of knowing that we are there for each other no matter what.

Reuniting with my grandson reminds me of the beauty of simple connections and the power of love to bridge generations. In his laughter, I find joy; in his eyes, I see the promise of tomorrow. Together, we journey through life, guided by a bond that is as timeless as it is profound.

May this weekend reunion serve as a reminder of love, illuminating the path ahead with warmth, wisdom, and the enduring bond that ties us together — grandfather and grandson, united in heart and spirit.

Let me encourage you to seek out and embrace the moments that matter, cherish the bonds that bind, and revel in unconditional love that knows no bounds.

Aging Reflections: A Road Less Travelled

Photo Credit: Jeremy Pue, Whitewater Productions. “A Road on Keats Island”

The photo above is one of the few roads on Keats Island and where our Better with Age retreat will be held. I love how the image draws you forward, but you do not know where it goes once you’re deeper into the forest. I do know that this road does come to a point where you have to make a decision to go right or go left.

It has been my lifelong commitment to inspire souls to lead, to find strength in their convictions, and to empower their steps with unwavering confidence. Now, as I reflect on the inevitability of my own aging, I recognize the need for those skills to adapt and endure. That is why I joined my dear friends, Dr. Paul Pearce and Dr. Paul Stevens, who taught a course at Regent College called “Aging Matters,” based on Stevens’s book. This is also why my wife Glenda, Paul and I are facilitating a retreat for Baby Boomers in partnership with Barnabas Landing called “Better with Age.”

Better with Age allows Baby Boomers to delve into matters of calling, spirituality, and legacy in retirement. In this environment, we want to be encouraged to continue to discern our purpose as we grow older and remain meaningfully engaged for the rest of our lives. We want you to better understand this season of life and reframe retirement as a time of continued calling and productivity. Better with Age points to biblical wisdom that can help us redefine aging as an extraordinarily fruitful season of life.

The Fork in the Road – Acceptance or Denial?

I found myself, much like you might have, standing at a metaphorical fork in the road. One path, worn by the countless footsteps of the courageous, is the thoroughfare of acceptance—a road where we acknowledge the reality of our age with clear eyes and a full heart. The other path is denial, coated with the veneer of youth—a tempting detour that leads one into a mirage, away from the weight of years and the truth they carry.

Choosing the road of aging is far from waving a white flag; it is an act of courage. It’s an uprising against the fear of irrelevance, a bold declaration that our sunset years can be as enriching as the dawn of our youth. Here, real love flourishes, the kind that endures beyond transitory feelings—a resilient garden blooming from the seed of commitment nourished by actions and deeds.

Guidance Through the Uncertainties of Aging

Allow me to impart some guidance drawn from years of whispering courage into the hearts of leaders, many of whom struggle in the twilight of their careers:

Acknowledge Change: Recognize the transformation in your body and mind as a natural progression of life, not as an enemy to be contested but as a companion on your journey. This acceptance paves the way for peace and prepares the arena for untapped growth.
Invest in Healthy Living: We must learn and practice skills to maintain vitality. Prioritize wellness, engage in activities that nourish your body, and cultivate habits that anchor your mental health. Remember, well-being is a discipline, not a mere stroke of luck.
Cultivate Lasting Bonds: True affection stems from the roots of shared experiences and weathered storms. Commit to your relationships, be they professional or personal, and watch as affection deepens into a resilient bond that time can only strengthen, not wither.
Legacy of Leadership: Aging as a leader bestows upon you the rare opportunity to reflect not only on successes but also on the wisdom harvested from trials. Pass down this legacy. Mentor the young, ignite purpose in their endeavours, and gift them with a compass that points toward integrity and authentic living.
The Virtue of Adaptability: In a world that glorifies perpetual youth, be the voice that champions adaptability. Model how one can simultaneously honour the past and gracefully evolve to adopt new perspectives, skills, and roles.

Forks and Roads – A Personal Anecdote

Like you, I, too, encountered this fork. I was living the “Life of Carson,” as my doctor once told me, and on the road of denial, thinking I could do everything I have always been able to do. Well, that is not true anymore. Now I chose the road of aging—the less-travelled road, and I am learning about new things and seeing how God still has purpose for us as we age. I accepted the graying of my hair as a crown of wisdom, and although my family DNA does not seem to flood my top with grey, I do see more than I did last year. The new lines on my face are etchings of both joy and sorrow, borne with equal grace.

What changed my perspective? In 2022, I spent three weeks in a hospital ICU. I was having a multitude of tests done on my heart due to an incident. That experience caused me to face, with some evidence, that I was getting older. To be honest, I fought it, but in quiet moments, while resting in my hospital bed, I realized I was entering what I now call the third period of the hockey game and with no promise of overtime. I came out of the hospital with an ICD, and a different lifestyle. This choice to accept my getting older has not been without its struggle, but it has been illuminated with an authenticity that actually makes life even better.

What road are you on? Pause. Reflect. Then, stride forward, knowing that you do not walk it alone. We all are learning lessons. My insights and yours are like lanterns left to light the way for others. May they guide you to lead with conviction as you inherit the mantle of your twilight sage.

In closing, remember readers, the roads we select will wind and weave differently for each of us, but the horizon is shared—the dusk of our days. As the Scriptures share, we do not number our days, but we can choose how we will live them. Aging is neither the end of the road nor the cessation of influence; it is a continuance, a testament to the lives we’ve moulded, the leadership we’ve inspired, and the legacy we leave behind.

Lead on, not despite your years, but because of them.

Baby Boomers and Faith: Finding Sanctuary in Aging

A significant number of people belonging to the Baby Boomer generation are individuals of Christian faith seeking a safe space to understand and navigate the challenges and joys of aging. As we age, we experience various transitions – from changes in our health, family dynamics to shifts in our life’s purpose. It’s an inevitable part of life that can feel overwhelming at times. However, there’s solace to be found in shared experiences and mutual understanding. One such sanctuary is the Better with Age retreat offered by Barnabas Landing.

Understanding The Shifts

As we grow older, numerous transitions come into play. We find ourselves transitioning into the ’empty nest’ phase as our children grow up and start families of their own. This shift can bring about both a sense of pride in our children’s independence and a feeling of loss as the home becomes quieter.

Health changes are another common aspect of aging. Our bodies, after years of service, begin to demand more care and attention. Adjusting to these changes can be daunting, but it’s not a journey one has to undertake alone.

Re-evaluating life’s purpose and values also becomes crucial as career and family-raising move into the rearview mirror. The question of ‘what now?’ often arises, leading to introspection and, sometimes, reinvention.

A Safe Haven at Barnabas Landing

The Better with Age retreat at Barnabas Landing is a haven for Baby Boomers navigating these transitions. The retreat will take place from April 8 – 11, 2024, and is led by Carson and Glenda Pue. Carson is an executive mentor, podcaster and author, and Glenda, with her vast experience working with children with special needs and their families, together offer a unique perspective on the challenges and joys of aging. Both lost their spouses and are remarried and navigating growing older together. They will be joined by Dr. Paul Pearce, a longtime friend and former director of the Centre for Healthy Aging and Transitions.

The retreat is all-inclusive and priced at $440 per person based on two sharing or $560 for single occupancy, and revolves around the theme of transition. You will come away feeling like you have had a mini-vacation with the exquisite meals at Barnabas, the comfortable rooms and the serenity of the view itself. It also offers workshops on topics such as losing a spouse, health changes, ageless connections, and aging with purpose.

Participants can join others in similar life stages to think, learn, and reflect together about how to live well and leave a lasting legacy through their words, actions, and faith. It’s an opportunity to share experiences, gain new insights, and find solace in the shared journey of aging.

The Final Word

Growing older does not have to be a solitary journey. Places like Barnabas Landing provide a safe space for Baby Boomers of faith to discuss, learn, and support each other through the transitions that come with aging, turning what might seem daunting into an enriching experience filled with growth and understanding.

For more information about the Better with Age retreat, visit Barnabas Landing or reach out to Evelyn at info@barnabaslanding.com.

Realities of Getting Older: What No One Told Us

Remember when we thought growing older was all about retirement and finding the perfect pair of reading glasses? Well, it turns out there’s a bit more to it than that. Let me reflect on some of the surprising realities of aging that our younger selves may not have anticipated. Aging is a natural process that everyone goes through, but it can pose significant surprises. Let me share some of my observations.

Changing Life Perspectives

As we age, our perspectives can change. This concerns me, as I hope it does not see me starting to like country music I have avoided my entire life. But, coming back to the point, I was wanting to say that things that once seemed monumental now seem insignificant, and vice versa. It’s as if we’ve been given a pair of new spectacles or a new vantage point that allows us to see what truly matters in life. And let me tell you, it’s not the latest electric car or the size of our houses. It is actually all about relationships with family, friends, our faith community, our peers.

It is important for us to build into our lives a time to get perspective on this whole aging season. To stop, to study, to talk about getting older. Let’s be good mentors and pass along to those following behind us what we are experiencing as we age.

Physical Challenges

Let’s face it: with age comes an assortment of physical challenges we never signed up for. The knees get sore, and the back isn’t as forgiving as it used to be; we can’t run fast – or perhaps can’t even run. We also end up taking medications we never even thought of when we were younger. I smile when out with my friend Bob, and our watch alarms go off at the same time, reminding us to take our pills. Our laughter over this allows us to at least keep a sense of humour about it all.

New Mental Wellness Battles

As we age, we often face significant life changes that can impact our mental health. These can include retirement, the death of loved ones, increased isolation, and physical health issues.

Retirement, for instance, can lead to a loss of identity and purpose, especially for those who found significant meaning in their careers. The death of friends and family members can bring on grief and loneliness, while physical health problems can cause stress and sometimes depression.

Furthermore, older adults may also experience cognitive decline, which can lead to confusion, frustration, and anxiety. In some cases, it can even result in dementia or Alzheimer’s disease.

Growing older can feel like stepping into unknown territory without a map. We grapple with questions that would’ve boggled our younger minds. Our older minds do not seem to work as quickly as they once did, and you notice changes in your memory or recall. There is much more mystery than we considered. But here’s a secret – it’s okay not to have all the answers. There’s a certain beauty in the mystery, and each question we ponder brings us a step closer to understanding God and ourselves better.

Existential Questions

With the passing of time, we become more aware of our mortality. We are all going to die. This awareness often leads us to ponder the bigger questions of life. What is our purpose? How do we want to be remembered? What will be said at our funeral? How shall we live our remaining days? While these questions may seem daunting, they also offer an opportunity to reflect on our lives and to remember there is still time to make meaningful changes.

Spiritual Insights

Our spirituality deepens and widens as we age. We may discover new insights from scripture we didn’t see before because they now resonate with our experience and life stage. Often, we are drawn to the solitude of familiar rituals of our faith, like quiet prayer and Bible reading. Embrace and savour these moments as they can serve as guideposts and guardrails on your aging journey, providing direction and inspiration every step of the way.

Growing older is an adventure filled with unexpected twists, turns and surprising revelations. The Baby Boomer demographics show there are so many of us out there in this particular stage of the journey. I refer to it as the third period of the hockey game, and if you are not into hockey, that means it is the last period of play with no promise of overtime. There is empirical evidence showing that those who think positively about aging often live longer, healthier lives. So, let’s do all that we can to embrace the surprises of aging with a cheerful heart and a hopeful spirit.

Better With Age

Remember that we’re not just growing older. We’re growing wiser, more compassionate, and more resilient. Each day is another opportunity to learn, to love, and to leave a mark on the world. So, let’s cherish each moment, each memory, and yes, even each pill! After all, we’re like fine wine, getting better with age.

This is why we named our April retreat for Baby Boomers “Better With Age.” Please consider coming to join Glenda and me at beautiful Barnabas Landing, where we can talk about these and other common themes of aging. It will be three nights in exquisite lodging, chef-prepared meals and a sense of community and laughter that will live on long after the retreat.

You will find all the details here at Barnabas Landing. Hope to see you there.

When Your Adult Children Move Away: Coping and Adjusting

As two of my adult children, Jon and Kirstie, packed up their lives and moved away with my youngest grandkids, I felt a profound sense of loss. The sound of laughter and pattering feet that filled our home just days ago now echoes in the distance. However, amid the sadness, I couldn’t help but marvel at the incredible adventure unfolding before them. Witnessing my children embrace new opportunities and navigate this chapter with faith in God evoked a mixture of pride and wistfulness within me.

Embracing Loss and Change:

When they first told us that they were going to move to Alberta, I was crushed. Then overnight, I realized that I had done the exact same thing to my parents – moving away with their grandchildren. I just had no idea how it felt. Jon and Kirstie sold their home and moved in with us for the last month and a half before their big move. Their presence during the Christmas season was truly a blessing. It was a joy to have them here, allowing us precious moments with the grandchildren. And once the little ones were tucked in bed, we cherished fireside conversations as adults. Now that they have left, the void seems greater and closer to home.

Despite the sadness that arises from their moving away, there is also some peace in knowing that love knows no bounds.
That’s from me but only after Glenda reminded me of this

At least today we have technology that can also help maintain a strong emotional connection, allowing for regular video calls, virtual story time, or even playing online games together. We can still create lasting memories and a sense of continuing closeness despite the physical separation. It made me sad to think how my parents only had a telephone landline when we moved away, and that was back when long-distance calls were very expensive.

Embracing change when your adult children move away can be a daunting and emotional experience. It’s natural to feel a sense of emptiness and loss, but it’s also an opportunity for growth and self-discovery. Instead of focusing on the void left behind, I am going to try to consider embracing this transition as a chance to strengthen relationships with family and loved ones who are still nearby. This change is not an end but a new chapter.

By writing this blog I am coaching myself. It has been cathartic and thanks for reading this far.

If I were sitting across the desk from me wearing a mentor hat, I would suggest, “Use this time to reflect on the relationship you’ve had together and celebrate the memories while looking forward to visiting them in their new home. Embrace this change with hope, fostering an attitude of gratitude for the shared experiences and excitement for the opportunities that lie ahead.

But wait! You’re taking the grandkids??

I told my son that I didn’t really care if they moved away, but they should not be allowed to take my grandchildren.
Me, only half-joking

Grandchildren moving away is an emotionally challenging experience, as the bond between grandparent and grandchild is often deep and cherished. Roland and I are like a dynamic duo, and Glenda and Brooklyn are joined at the hip most of the time. Faith in the strength of this connection can provide comfort during times of transition and change. It’s important to nurture that love through ongoing communication and intentional efforts to stay connected despite physical distance.

Despite the sadness that may arise from their moving away, it’s possible to find peace in knowing that love knows no bounds. Embracing new technology can also help maintain a strong emotional connection, allowing for regular video calls, virtual story time, or even online games together. The impact of such efforts can be profound, creating lasting memories and a sense of continuing closeness despite the physical separation.

As the moving day approached, Grandpa and Grandma found themselves grappling with a mix of emotions. Our hearts are brimming with love for our grandchildren Roland and Brooklyn, yet a heaviness settles in at the thought of being physically distanced. Yet, in moments of quiet reflection, I can hold on with faith to the unbreakable connection we have. While distance may alter the dynamics of our relationship with the grandchildren, it cannot diminish the depth of love that binds us together. Love knows no bounds. True relationships withstand any obstacle.

Family Dynamic

Their departure has marked a seismic shift in our family dynamic. For the last many years, we have all lived within ten minutes of each other. Jon, Kirstie, Jason and Kristin lived literally across the street from each other and just four minutes away from us. So as they embarked on a new chapter of their lives, the family rhythms of daily life were disrupted, leaving an undeniable void in our midst. Late-night dog walks with brothers, Fire Nights, borrowing needed food items, having the kids drop over, all family meals, playtime with the cousins, everything is different now.

I suspect some initial shaking of the ground underneath us all, but I believe we can expect a subtle undercurrent of hope to emerge. In their absence, we may also discover some untapped reservoirs of resilience and unity within ourselves, anchoring us as we navigate uncharted waters as a family.

Jeremy: “I have never not lived in the same city as my brother.”

Me: “Well, there was a time that you lived in Perth Australia and Jon lived in Belfast, Northern Ireland?”

Jeremy: “Well yeah okay, but that wasn’t for that long and we stayed in touch. I remember that there was a wierd hour when the time zones worked for us to talk on Skype.”
Recent Conversation with Jeremy

Jon and Kirstie’s departure marked a shift in our family dynamic, but it also opened doors to newfound connections and experiences. Perhaps this separation was necessary for both their personal growth and mine. As they ventured off following a calling for a unique ministry with youth and pursuing career opportunities in different surroundings, I found myself reflecting on my own capacity for adaptation and resilience. It is much easier to do this when you are younger. Despite the bittersweet emotions that come with seeing your loved ones depart, there’s an undeniable beauty in witnessing their journey unfold.

Amidst the echoes of their laughter still lingering in our hearts, we found solace in the unshakeable foundation of faith that has always bound us together. Their departure became a catalyst for introspection and growth, prompting us to reevaluate and redefine what it truly means to be a family. Through this transformative process, we unearthed a newfound appreciation for the precious moments shared and embraced with renewed fervour the potential for burgeoning connections with one another.

Just before Christmas, I went out with my daughters to the Hallmark Christmas Movie set. They film a lot of their Christmas movies here; in fact, many are filmed right in our neighbourhood. After wandering around enjoying the Christmas decorations, we went out for supper. While having supper, I asked Kirstie what she was thinking of doing in terms of staying in touch with Kristin and Shari. She responded succinctly, “I am going to be very intentional.”

“I am going to be very intentional.”
Kirstie

Staying in touch with family is crucial for maintaining strong and meaningful relationships. In today’s fast-paced world, it can be easy to get caught up in our busy lives and neglect this important aspect of our lives. However, it is important to remember that family is a source of love, support and comfort, and we must make an effort to stay connected with them.

So what can we do to stay in touch?

One practical suggestion for staying in touch with family is to schedule regular check-ins or catch-up sessions. This could be through video calls, phone calls, or even sending letters or emails. By setting aside specific times to connect with our loved ones, we are showing them that they are a priority in our lives.

Additionally, utilizing technology can also help bridge the distance between family members who may live far away. Social media platforms, messaging apps, and free video conferencing tools have made it easier than ever to stay connected with loved ones regardless of geographic location.

However, it is important to note that simply relying on technology is not enough. We must also make the effort to physically visit and spend quality time with our family members whenever possible. Glenda and I are already planning our first trip out to visit and see their new house. We have also been in the practice of planning a regular family vacation (Puecation).

Perhaps the bottom line is this: Staying in touch with family requires intentionality and effort. Let us not take these relationships for granted and make the effort to nurture them. By doing so, we will strengthen our bonds as family members and create lasting memories that will enrich our lives.

By setting aside specific times to connect with our loved ones, we are showing them that they are a priority in our lives.
Carson Pue

PS. April 8-11, 2024, Glenda and I are facilitating a retreat called “Better with Age” at the beautiful Barnabas Landing on Keats Island. As I have been writing this, I’ve thought that this could be a valuable topic for parents experiencing similar transitions. The retreat provides a forum for Baby Boomers to share experiences and practical advice, creating a supportive community. We could also talk about what we can do in preparation for our children leaving. What do you think?

https://barnabaslanding.com/retreats/betterwithage

Jon, Kirstie, Ro and Brooklyn, we are excited about your new adventure and how God is going to work through you and your relationships there. Each day that passes is another day closer to seeing you again, and that thought brings me comfort. And remember, we are only a text message away.

“Disappointment with Work” by Tim Stafford

Glenda and I are working with Barnabas Landing to host an annual retreat called “Better with Age.” As you can guess it’s being focussed on those of us over 55 years of age and facing the transition zone into the third period of life.

This has led us to read a great deal on the subject of aging and the issues that surface because of our getting older. These reflections by Tim I know will resonate with many.

Our next Better with Age retreat will be held April 8-11, 2024.

The Inside of Aging: Disappointment with Work