After a While

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). 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. That Sunday morning I received message from my wife and we agreed 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 sleeker. 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 a new awareness. The people have gone home. After the funeral bustle 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 at least for the next few days until the flowers are done their thing. What a beautiful daughter we had.

And next, what do we do with memories? Already we realize they just stay, or pop up unexpectedly even while you’re busy doing things. Helping our second daughter move out of the apartment the sisters had been renting together, there are furniture decisions and quick household errands. In and out of our house, suddenly there is a pen, just an old dried out pen laying in a drawer for years, a souvenir from our oldest son’s first teaching position in Garden River, an Indigenous community near Fort Chipewyan, Alberta. This early teaching position became a significant beginning for his career as an educator, AND provided some fascinating excursions up there for our family. For me one trip up there now serves as a run down memory lane! A trip into new territory, adulthood just around the corner, in my mind it marked the beginning of many adventures, many changes within our family in those following years. Now we are blessed with two loving daughters-in-law and two grandchildren just graduated out of high-school. Everybody all grown up! Lots of memories in that old pen. Sigh.

The obituary is 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 in her name, the tributes to Adrianne and condolences to us are a touching demonstration of who she was. Our daughter’s Christian commitment, along with assessment[i] of Fetal Alcohol Spectrum Disorder provided both the opportunity and the challenges of her life lived so vibrantly among all she met. And it was us her parents and siblings who had the privilege of being with her, thankful for our church and that large community around each of us. Adrianne is now cheering us on from that vantage up above.[ii]

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[i] But not diagnosis.

[ii] Hebrews 12:1