In the wee small hours of the morning when the whole wide world is fast asleep I tip toe through the shadows into my comfy chair to take a load off my feet and reflect on the remains of the day. Often when I slide into my chair I realize I have not stopped moving and standing all day and it just feels so darn good to sit down and sink into the chairs arms… thus the term ‘armchair’. And if you’re lucky enough to have a chair with arms that hug you, then you’re in heaven. Every muscle in my body was aching and I didn’t even know it. It’s been nonstop GO for the entire day. There is still more to do but I will have to leave that for another day as I don’t think I can move another inch. At this point even getting myself upstairs to bed is going to be a chore. Thus I linger just a while longer.

There is something private and deeply satisfying about being up while others are sound asleep in the same house. Something about snuggling into my comfy cozy chair by the fire when all is quiet and still with just enough illumination for me to sit and write. There is a peace and a clarity that helps me sort out issues that I can’t even focus on in the hustle and bustle of the day. I can hear the furnace air blowing sporadically , I have a load of laundry in that spins rythmically in the background and now it’s raining. Sounds of the rain pelting the deck- so soothing. Reminiscent of waves crashing the shore in the warm Kona night. I surrender to the nighttime as I pull my legs up on the chair under me to make myself small and unobtrusive.

As I study the flames from the fireplace flickering and dancing on the wall it occurs to me there is no other place I would rather be, in the home I share (on this particular night with my two kids and husband.) This is a rare occasion these days so I hold it close and cherish it. I know I shouldn’t be up compromising my immune system and making myself vulnerable to illness. But deep in the dark grey shadows are voices that urge me to stay, so I pause and I wait and I listen, for one more word, for one more lovely thing that the night might say.

0k already… I’m going to bed.

My sister Natalie and I were the only ones amongst us that had been to Las Vegas before. Calling it Las Vegas conjures up different images than the nickname ‘Vegas’ does. We showed our mom and sisters the Walt Disney Las Vegas as opposed to the CSI Vegas. The Las Vegas of Sammy Davis junior, Frank Sinatra and Dean Martin. Not the Vegas of the ‘Hangover’ movie. We mostly stayed above ground and marveled at the magnificent manmade wonders and replicas of significant architecture and monuments from around the world. I mean, where else can you travel and take in the Eiffel Tower, the Statue of Liberty, the Empire State Building, the pyramids of Egypt, the canals and gondoliers of Venice and the flower gardens of Japan all in one stop?

And the Grand Canyon. Let’s not forget the Grand Canyon made by the creator of the universe. Nothing fake about that.

We enjoyed culinary delicacies from some of the best restaurants and chefs thanks to Natalie who entertains clients in Las Vegas frequently. We shopped at the coolest (I’m talking temperature) and most upscale shopping venues. Then there was the decadence of staying at a resort hotel as we gathered around the pool area each day for 3-4 hours. This is where memories were made.

Flowers out of a vending machine? Only in Vegas. 24 hour Starbucks? Only in Vegas. $18USD pool drinks? Only in Vegas. 37 degrees on May 5? Only in Vegas. Water dancing 460 feet in the air to music? Only in Vegas.

But what was, in actuality, more amazing than these was the fact that all four of Ruth’s daughters (and one granddaughter) converged upon this marvel of man to celebrate and honour a special woman. Our mother. One from New Zealand, two from Toronto and three from Calgary. I’m convinced that this was a once in a lifetime event. Each daughter/sister set aside their daily routine and responsibilities and wholeheartedly jumped at the opportunity to honour mom this way on her 85th birthday. Sacrifices of time and finance became secondary to the common goal. Little did we know that in meeting together in Las Vegas not only would we bless our mother but we would renew the sisterhood. (Not of the travelling pants because there is absolutely no way one pair of pants would have fit each of us). But rather, we had an opportunity to experience each other as we are now. We are different women than the girls we knew as we were growing up in our parents home. Life’s experiences have molded and shaped us in ways we could never have predicted and it was a joy to connect with the glamourous, sophisticated and resilient women my sisters have evolved into.

Viva the Sisterhood.

Another sweltering day, another Vegas adventure. Starbucks, sizzle by the pool from 10:00 to 2:00, more Starbucks, chats in the pool, taking turns cooling off so someone could act as security guard for our stuff. We had to take gold bricks down to the pool to purchase drinks with. After we’d had enough sun for the day we all landed in on Zara at the Fashion show mall. Zara didn’t know what hit them as all six of us tried on most of the items in the store. Some of us even bought things and exchanged them before we left the store. Then off to Charming Charlie’s.

The plan was to have supper at Gordon Ramsey’s ‘burger’ restaurant with all the flames between the windows (which we did). So we piled into two cabs and set out towards Planet Hollywood. Naturally we ordered burgers AND truffle parmesan French fries. I’m wrecked for all other French fries and that’s got to be the most melty in your mouth hamburger I’ve ever had. We followed this up with a trip to the Chandelier bar across the street. After we’d had our fill of crystals and exotic drinks we moved the party over to the fountains of Bellagio for our final enjoyment.

Natalie and Melanie took mom back to the hotel in a cab and Lexie, Jacqui and I decided to walk back. True to form,  Jacqui had us in stitches in no time. We passed a tall blond in stilettos and a VERY short dress (she had to keep one hand on her hem and the other hanging onto to her guy for dear life) and  Jacqui says (to us really) ‘hey girlie, I hate to tell you this buts that’s not a dress, it’s a shirt’ and jacqui goes even further and says ‘ you should watch these girls when they drop a $100 bill, their skirt is too short and tight  to bend over so they say ‘nevermind  about it- I’ll get another one somewhere.’ We were wondering why the guys these girls were clinging to,  got to wear runners, jeans and a tshirt while the girls had to wear the highest heals, the shortest skirts, the tightest clothes and the lowest necklines. Somehow it didn’t seem fair. Did I mention the cobblestone sidewalks?

While we were on the topic of uncomfortable clothes,  Jacqui started telling us about the last marathon she and her son, A.J., ran in. There was a gal in front of them with a cellphone in her skort pocket and the cellphone was so heavy it weighed her skort down enough to expose her assets and she had to keep doing this little hop jump move to pull her skort back up…. Jacqui was demo-ing this as we walked down Las Vegas Blvd. I was laughing so hard I had to sheild my eyes with my newly purchased Hell’s Kitchen cookbook or I’d have had an embarrassing accident. I’m sure people were wondering what we were smoking and where could they get some. Then she told us about the lady that came in second in the marathon. Apparently she was so desperate to win (big monetary prizes) that she could not interrupt her run to go to the lavatory and was covered from head to toe with her own …. well, as A.J. put it, she really did come in No. 2. By this time I was almost rolling on the ground….

Laughing is so good for the soul and Jacqui has always been able to make us laugh til we cry or wet ourselves or both. It was well after midnight and the strip was still busy and well populated but no one paid any attention to our antics and cavorting. I felt 18 again. It was invigorating. Thanks for the memories Jacqui.

What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. Not anymore. Because this happened and I’m going to tell you about it. Mom, two of my sisters and a old dear family friend joined us on this trip and they all headed out for the Grand Canyon this morning by way of the Hoover Dam. Surprisingly there were a few of us that chose to stay in the city so we could melt faster than a crayon by the hotel pool in the 31 degree heat.

Anyhow. Lexie and I had planned to avail ourselves of the fitness facilities at Treasure Island but as we stretched and yawned our way out of bed Lexie had a brain wave and suggested we order room service instead of working out. I had my credit card out in 3 seconds flat. Lexie proceeded to order a stack of pancakes with sides for her and eggs benedict for moi. I thought I’d shower while we were waiting. It was so decadent as we sat on the bed and ate our fill of breakfast food prepared by someone else as we watched morning TV (King of Queens and Everybody loves Raymond – did you know they used to be on the same show?). I call my other sister,  that also passed on the Grand Canyon, to ask her to join us but… no answer. We don’t hear from her for a bit so I eat my last Benedict reasoning that by the time I hear from her it will be too cold for either of us to eat. Naturally, after I swallowed the last bite I hear a knock on the door. It’s Natalie and clearly she is famished as she eats Lexie’s last pancake, sausage and egg. Lexie decides to go out and take in one of the attractions she had planned on … taking in. Immediately after she left Natalie and I decide to move the room service cart into the hallway for pick up. We are having difficulty getting it through the door and Natalie realizes we need to fold down the one side so she is fumbling under the table cloth for the knob, she finally finds it and the table end folds and accelerates the pace of the cart through the door so we got momentarily distracted and excited and I let the room door shut. As I heard the click I realize I’m standing in the hallway wearing my flimsy nightshirt, barefooted and my key card, phone and ID are safely inside the room. I tried to remember how many movies I’d seen with this similar dilemma. I guess writers don’t really just make this stuff up. Natalie texts Lexie to come back but it could be a couple of hours before she sees the text since she is probably making her way through Madame Tussauds wax museum by now.

Natalie being the calm wise younger sister takes me back to her room and phones the front desk, explains the situation and asks what they can do. We already know we can’t get another key card without ID. They are sending up security.

Thankfully Natalie had a room as well or I would have had no choice but to walk down to the front desk in my jammie’s and barefeet and wait in line while being mocked and judged by other guests as they assumed I’d been on an all night bender or lost my clothes and room at the craps table. I had absolutely no proof I was guest at this hotel.

It’s 10:30 at night and the city is teaming with people and smells and sounds unlike any thing we are used to. It’s a world foreign to us. Rather like being in a jungle totally unaware of what danger might befall us. The place is lit up like a Christmas tree. Actually I’ve not seen any Christmas tree that could rival this. No wonder they need the Hoover dam close by. I don’t think there is a city in the world that uses this much electricity.

We struggle our way down to the Bellagio to show mother the fountains. Men of all ages are craning their necks doing double takes as Lexie walks by. I’m not letting that girl out of my sight. The fountains begin to “One Singular Sensation” , how appropriate and just as magical as I remember. Across the street the Eiffel Tower. Other than the scent of weed wafting over to us, it’s truly amazing. My eyes are starting to burn from the smell. We move on.

Clearly we brought the wrong clothes . Our clothes fit, theyre comfortable and cover our bodies. What were we thinking? And the heels on the cobblestone sidewalks, well let’s just say those young girls have more courage and stamina than I ever will. Maybe a little less wisdom.

And look at me still up staring out at the new Trump tower outside our hotel window at 2 am. There’s a Saks 5th avenue and a Macy’s and a Neimann Marcus AND a Nordstroms as well. Note to self: go there tomorrow and take photos of beautiful stuff I want but can’t afford.

Time for sleep. We have a big day laying around the pool tomorrow. Did I mention the 24 hour Starbucks at our hotel? God is definitely looking down on me compassion this week.