Change in politics and life is inevitable and constant

It seems as quickly as Alison Redford marched onto the Alberta political stage, she has marched off of it, leaving Albertans

It seems as quickly as Alison Redford marched onto the Alberta political stage, she has marched off of it, leaving Albertans somewhat bewildered and a little perplexed.

“What will be the next move on the political chess board?” we ask, “and, even more importantly, “who will make it?”

I must admit I heard the news about Redford’s resignation later rather than sooner as I was quite engaged in a much more important event at the time our leader decided to make her surprise announcement.

Grandchild number six had suggested (rather strongly) to his mother he was ready to be born.

I got the phone call about midnight; a time when puppies and kittens and little children and grandmas such as myself are all safely tucked in bed and sleeping.

Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, (sleep in your eyes on the highway in the middle of the night is not a good thing), grabbed my trusty coffee cup and set out for the long, lonely drive to my daughter’s house, arriving somewhat dazed and confused, but ready. For what I was ready, I wasn’t sure, but, I was ready!

But, after we all looked at each other, ate some cheese and crackers and talked about nothing, the child decided he was not quite ready to be born after all. He decided, instead to go back to making his mom quite uncomfortable, like moms are supposed to be when they have been with child for almost, but not quite, nine months.

Breakfast happened in the morning, just like always. The unborn baby’s oldest brother, who is five and practical, was quite relieved that all had returned to normal.

“I hope that baby doesn’t come now,” he grumbled. “We are just having breakfast.”

His younger brother, who didn’t realize his days as being youngest are numbered, said nothing. He just kept eating.

The baby’s almost arrival brought me, the grandma, smack dab in the middle of a world filled with toys on the floor, sticky fingerprints on the window, cartoons on the television and, most importantly, two delightful little boys.

I was happy; so happy in fact, I almost, but not quite, stayed awake for the whole day.

During the time I was awake, I read stories, sang songs, helped build a train track, played a rousing game of Mouse Trap and learned how to climb the ladder to the top bunk.

It was a good day, a happy day, but after two pajama clad little boys were tucked safe in their respective beds, I wrapped a Spiderman blanket around myself and collapsed on the couch.

I was, I’m sure, in a state of grandma exhaustion, incoherently muttering something The Wheels on the Bus, and dreaming about super heroes.

Later, when it became apparent no baby would be making an appearance at this time, I knew it was time to go.

So I closed the door on the toys and the fingerprints and the books and the two little boys who have a way of turning my heart to mush just by being who they are and opened the door to my world.

And that is how I learned Alison Redford resigned.

Her resignation marks the end of a short, rather disastrous term in office which leaves the Progressive Conservative scrambling to crazy glue their party back together.

It is true they have a track record of a majority government that can’t be disputed.

But, dissention in the ranks, much of which is a result of Redford’s questionable leadership tactics and a general political unrest leaves one to wonder what will happen next.

Will hard front line decisions be tempered with compassion and integrity? Will the leadership role ascertain the traits of dignity and strength combined with common sense and understanding are demonstrated? The best one can hope for is the person who steps into the shoes of leader attempts to portray those characteristics.

Change is inevitable. Only time will tell how the political changes will unfold.

At the very least, it will be interesting!

— On The Other Side