It seems like an eternity since last I ventured onto this ‘field’. Strange how even writing can seem like a new world if you are doing it on a new device. New device; there is the rub. My old laptop got lifted out of my car by some nighttime wanderer, I suppose, who thought it might fetch a few dollars (Maybe? It was very old). And that seems like ages ago; happened in Saskatoon, just outside my sister’s residence the night after I had participated in a significant event with some members of our extended family. Waking up that Sunday morning I received an urgent message from my wife that I needed to hurry home to Calgary so I could be at the bedside of our oldest daughter in ICU in the hospital nearest to our home.
So, we’ve
been busy! Our dear daughter passed away on Monday, the day after the speedy
trip. Enter a week of tears, of texts and phone calls and more of the same, quickly
the request for and then receiving help from everyone - from our dear church friends
including the clergy type (we’re lucky to have a few of those), from relatives
and neighbors all around, suddenly the world expands to remind of all we are a
part of.
Here I am
tapping on a new-to-me laptop, one of those things you seemingly cannot do
without, gifted by our son who made a quick Kijiji purchase and that followed
by emergency lessons from both sons trying to introduce dad to the new and
improved! How old and thick my brain even as the devices get slim and tiny in front
of me. Among the techno lessons I appreciate my sons’ setting up task bars and
tabs, somewhat similar to my recall of the old one so I won’t get lost and
confused too many times after they have gone home. Ironically this cannot be
ignored even as the sacred and the mysteries of life swarm all around. Aagh,
touch screens are so touchy.
And that in
context of the big theme! A first-time experience is before us. Our deceased
daughter, oh what memories. She was by far the most colorful of our brood of four. Our
family being Russian Mennonites, we are probably best described as high-energy,
strong-willed lineage. Noisiness is part of the lore – especially my side of
the family. Our Adrianne, being the adopted one, fit right in. Even when the
points of view were flying, she would laugh at any one of us, and before you
knew it, we were all laughing. She was the party girl. Her stories always came
with punchlines, a feature which served not only our household, but became her
(our) contribution to family visits wherever, whenever. That’s why the church
was so full at her funeral.
And there
is more – much more actually. This morning my wife and I both woke up with some brand new after-funeral awarenesses. The people have gone home, it’s quiet
in the house, and now we miss the noise. The altar picture of Adrianne still
nestles among floral bouquets starting to wilt. We want it exactly that way,
still need her there! What a beautiful daughter we had.
And next,
what do we do with memories? Already we realize they just stay, even if you’re
busy doing things. Even as we participate with our second daughter in moving
out of the apartment they had been renting together, furniture decisions and
quick household errands. There is a pen, just an old pen laying in a drawer for
years, it reminds of our oldest son’s first teaching position in Garden River, an Indigenous community near Fort Chipewyan, Alberta. We visited there one time, very enjoyable for Adrianne, her younger sister and brother and us, mom and dad! That memory lane trip now seems like beginning of something new, something fresh! Adulthood was entering our family, now wonderfully blessed with two daughters-in-law and two adorable grandchildren. Sigh. Lots of memories in that old pen!
Back to reality today, an obituary nicely facilitated by the funeral home. Interesting messages from
interesting people. Her laugh is the go-to in almost every post. Among the
trees planted and donations made, there is also an anonymous reference to being with
Jesus. No need for anonymity there, says I (and this is her dad speaking), being
an alcoholic did not change that commitment she made publicly at her baptism in
our church once upon a time. And it did not release us, her parents, from the
privilege and the responsibility of being with our daughter, along with the
church, our community of believers. And in this community, we encourage
speaking directly, rather than anonymously (Ephesians 4:15). But maybe that’s
just the Russian in me, or maybe in the anonymous person. Adri would just laugh
at us.
