Natasha Regehr

Tag: music

2025 Gratitude List

Here it is… another year of big and small happinesses, collected in a little book each evening and displayed on Thanksgiving Day in an act of public self-reflection. It is a testimony that life’s sweetest and most precious moments are to be savoured and preserved, and that even the most difficult days harbour cause for hope. Read on.

  • Honesty
  • It is a bedrock
  • Baseball in the back yard
  • Ten hits in a row
  • And the most encouraging coach
  • Sleepovers
  • When kids say funny things
  • Hallowe’en thrifting
  • Naan wraps
  • Anniversaries
  • Back to the gym
  • Meetings that aren’t disasters
  • Perfect days
  • Perfect evenings
  • Band practice in the basement
  • Progress on the siding
  • A minor injury
  • Short waits at ER
  • Sleeping in his arms
  • Success stories
  • Summer weather in October
  • Open windows
  • When I get a ride home from band
  • Those hamburgers are so good
  • Rapini
  • Normal blood sugar levels
  • Pillow talk
  • Work buddies
  • When I don’t think I’ll make the light, but then I do
  • Good therapists
  • When little ones learn to listen
  • When my purse doesn’t get stolen at the gym
  • When students play their first melodies, and it’s magical

Continue reading

Lest We Forget: Pass it On

I did not wear a poppy last year on Remembrance Day.  It wasn’t a statement: I simply forgot.

But as I learned today on the shores of Dieppe, forgetting is a statement.

Yesterday I visited the famed Flanders Fields of John McCrae’s poem.  Rows of crosses, row on row.  Thousands and thousands of them.  Each representing a boy-child, son, husband, father, lost on the Ypres Salient in World War I, gaining a mere eight kilometres for the Allies through the many months of brutal attacks.  Stones marked “A soldier of the Great War, known unto God” because their bodies could not be identified in the carnage.  Men lost to the first crippling gas attacks, in the days before gas masks.  Men whose body parts could not be sorted from the others and reassembled for a proper burial.  Men who died, and died, and died again, not knowing the outcome of the war that was supposed to end all wars.

Continue reading

© 2026 Cosmic Prose

Theme by Anders NorenUp ↑