Taking Stock

By Norm Richards

I don't know if it's tax time or the anticipation of season changing, I'm feeling pressure. Last week, I scrambled to figure out if I need to buy registered retirement coverage for another year or I'm a free range chicken. No such luck. I still have to keep putting feed in my mouth without choking on it. What disappoints me is, I'm not wealthy. I'm not in a position to just get my people to deal with it. Hey, I'm it. Should I be surprised? Or, should it be a warning something else is going on?

There's a big storm coming in today. The radio reports speak of roads and highways closed. Yet, there is a bit of wind and sprinkles of nice white fluffy coming down, at least at this hour. Should this be an omen for something bigger coming on? Don't you get some weeks where there is so much weight on your shoulders you just have to talk about it, as if it'll all go away by talking about it? Well, that's my week.

Last week I received a set of documents that outlines my ancestry. I'm still debriefing the contents and what direction to take with the details. It's nice to know who you are and or were you originate from. How about 1500 AD and beyond in France and the 1700's in Scotland? There were pieces of me moving on the land way back then. If those guys didn't dream of a better life somewhere else and come to this country, I wouldn't exist, at least not in the same DNA as I exist now.

I've gone my whole life knowing I'm a mixed blood person but lived to now with no documented proof of that. My parents and even grandparents did not speak much about who they were but for the language and love they showed me as a child, although we celebrated our culture and heritage in certain inspired ways. There was pride instilled in my heart and soul of who we are. The things they did share, lead to this day. I'm at an age now, where I'm close to the age they gave me such positive vibes. In turn, I wish I was living closer to my own children to pass on more. Now, the ancestry report has my imagination doing cartwheels fow what's possible.

This is my week. What's yours?