Thanks for Coming on the Ride, Pride, Spirit Guide, and An Aside.

Or..Amber tries to make a witty title and finishes the blog on a Tuesday...now Wednesday.

The Ride.

Well friends, I’m feeling pretty damn great as my Sunday Monday, now Tuesday, Wednesday, comes to a close.

(I began this post yesterday the day before yesterday).

Anyone who is new to my Substack may wonder “Why?” but you seasoned readers, and paid subscribers (who received their first subscriber post) already know that I am about to take you on the ride.

After my riviting Friday evening…

The start of a Poetry and Art piece. Paid subscribers can access the full journey and finished piece.

Saturday brought me a hug from Buttons, who came to visit from what feels like SO FAR away. We practiced our Andretti skills on Westside Road on the way home. Visits with her are the best, and I’m so thankful for the relationship we have. I love my grown-up kid.

Pride.

In university, History was my minor. I’m familiar—knowledgeable, even—about many historical events that have shaped the world.
That said, I’ve been flummoxed (and every other synonym for flummoxed—English major here) this past year as I’ve dived into the issues affecting our 50+ 2SLGBTQIA+ community.

I’m a very vocal, very active, very passionate ally.
My role as Director of Communications for Advocacy Canada is not one I take lightly.

One of our key areas of focus is recognizing, honouring, and advocating for the Silent Generation—or the “Closeted Generation”—2SLGBTQIA+ folx who came of age just before, during, and shortly after WWII.

Did you know that many of our Silent Generation are being silenced again?

Silenced. Again.

Staff, caregivers, and owners of independent living communities, assisted living, supportive housing, retirement homes, and the like are not required to receive any training on the unique care needs of the Queer community. Let that land for a moment.

Many of those from the “Silent Generation” are forced to closet themselves to avoid discrimination, isolation and mistreatment.

I shared this fact with people I know in all levels of government.
Do you know how many of them already knew?

None.
Not a single elected official.
Not a single government employee.
NOT. A. SINGLE. ONE.

If you didn’t know this either, well—you do now. Take it. Share it. Talk about it.

This past Sunday, Advocacy Canada hosted our 50+ Pride Picnic and Tea Dance—the first time a tea dance was added to the annual picnic.

Friends, it was one for the books.

Pride Picnic and Tea Dance

I witnessed a room filled with trailblazers.
Lifetimes of experience, strife, power, pain, resistance, resilience, hope, truth, confidence, life... LOVE.

Looking around that space, I couldn’t have accurately told you the age of any one person there (except that, yes, they all confessed to being over 50 when they bought their tickets).

What I could see was:
The energy. The excitement. The joy.
I saw strangers become friends.
I saw community being built.

And there was an EPIC singalong to ABBA’s Dancing Queen.
If you ever want to bring a smile to your face—or warm the cockles of your heart—watch the video here.

My Spirit Guide

I’m endlessly fascinated by how the universe gives you what you need, right when you need it.
(Also endlessly fascinated by how unnecessarily complicated the English language is—but that’s another blog.)

My Man had a Monday commitment, which meant I had the perfect window to squirrel. Kind of Exactly in the manner I am now-we’ll circle back.

And squirrel I did.
It went something like this:

My Man leaves.

Change the laundry over.
I walk into the kitchen.
Forget why.
Start putting dishes away.
Realize I need music.
Look for my phone. Find it on top of the dryer.
Find a playlist.

Hit play.

Fight with the Bluetooth.

Don’t love it-the playlist or fighting with bluetooth.
Try to remember a song—you know, the one that goes…