Faith

Caesarea by the Sea

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Traveling north from Tel Aviv, we came to Caesarea Martima or Caesarea by the Sea, not to be confused with Caesarea Philippi which we visited a couple of days later. Once an amazing complex overlooking the Mediterranean Sea, Caesarea Martima was one of the great architectural achievements of King Herod the Great. Described as both the greatest builder in Jewish history and a madman who murdered his father-in-law, several of his own wives and two of his sons, it was this same Herod who ordered the massacre of all the baby boys aged two years old and under in Bethlehem and its vicinity after he was outwitted by the wise men who came from the east to visit the baby Jesus. (Matthew 2:1-17)

At Caesarea, named after his Roman patron, Caesar Augustus, Herod built himself a magnificent palace, complete with a freshwater pool, on a promontory jutting out into the waters of the Mediterranean. The site also included a harbour that would accommodate 300 ships, a theatre that would seat 3500 and the massive Hippodrome where horse races and other special events were held.

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Theatre

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Remains of Herod’s palace

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The pool

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Mosaic floor

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Hippodrome

The Hippodrome originally sat some 10 000 people, but the seating on the sea side is missing. Large sections of it have been found in the sea some distance from their original location. It is thought that they might have been dragged out to sea by a tsunami. A major geological rift runs the entire length of Israel making it an earthquake zone.

From a Biblical perspective, perhaps the most significant find at Caesarea thus far has been the Pilate stone, a damaged block of engraved limestone with an authentic 1st-century Roman inscription mentioning the name of Pontius Pilate, the Roman governor who sentenced Jesus to death. (Matthew 23:1-25) It provides non-Biblical evidence proving the existence of this man. It is likely that he made his base here at Caesarea Maritima.

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The Pilate stone

It was also at Caesarea that the apostle Paul was imprisoned for two years while he awaited transfer to Rome. (Acts 23:23-26:32) It may have been in this small room or one just like it that he was held.

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Lack of fresh water at Herod’s complex required it to be brought from springs at the base of Mount Carmel nearly ten miles away. That posed little problem for the great builder, however, who simply had his labourers build an aqueduct. An amazing engineering feat, the aqueduct was built on arches and the gradient carefully measured so that the water would flow by the pull of gravity.

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Shalom Israel!

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As I begin to process and share all that we saw and experienced on our pilgrimage to Israel, I am reminded that there is a fine line between worshipping at a place and worshipping the place itself. There is no holy magic to any of the sites that we visited, but I have no doubt that being there and seeing them with our own eyes will give greater context to scripture as we continue to read and study it; to make it come alive or, as Richard says, to help us see it in 3D. As we traveled the length and breadth of this small country, I think everyone in our group gained a greater appreciation for the land that our Saviour traversed and for the ways in which He used His environment in His teachings.

We arrived in Israel on January 22nd via a direct ten hour flight from Toronto to Tel Aviv. The ultra modern Ben Gurion International Airport, named after the country’s first prime minister, is the world’s gateway to Israel.

Tel Aviv is a vibrant, modern and very liberal city located on the eastern shore of the Mediterranean Sea. Its next door neighbour is the ancient port city of Jaffa (Joppa). The two cities have grown together to form one metropolitan area with no line of distinction between them.

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Jaffa is of both Old and New Testament significance. It was here that Jonah boarded a ship headed for Tarshish in an attempt to flee from the mission that the Lord had given him. (Jonah 1:3) Much later, in the book of Acts, we are told that Peter was staying in Joppa with a tanner named Simon when he was summoned by Cornelius, a Roman centurion in Caesarea, to come and share the good news of Christ with him and those who had gathered in his home. (Acts 9:43-10:48) We were reminded that we can choose to be like Jonah and stand in God’s way or like Peter who cooperated with God. (Acts 11:17)

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Walking through the narrow stone alleyways of historical Jaffa, we came to the purported house of Simon the Tanner. There we were reminded that there are, in Israel, two types of Biblical sites; those that may be/might be/ are traditionally thought to be the original sites and those that definitely are. Simon’s house clearly falls into the first category. The present house simply doesn’t date back to the first century AD, but it is in the approximate location of the original home.

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Returning to Tel Aviv proper, we spent about an hour exploring the colourful Friday market which reminded Richard and I of similar marketplaces in Korea and Cambodia.

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After checking into the lovely Dan Tel Aviv Hotel where every room has a view of the Mediterranean Sea, Richard and I went for a stroll along the promenade overlooking the rocky shore to a sandy beach where, in spite of the coolness of the day, I shed my shoes and socks, rolled up my pant legs and fulfilled my dream of wading in the Mediterranean Sea!

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Pilgrimage

/ edebock / 2 Comments

If you know me personally or have been reading my blog for very long, you know that my husband and I love to travel and you may not be surprised to learn that we’re busy preparing for another trip. I included a hint to our destination in my last post, but no one guessed where we’re going. Since I’m bursting at the seams with excitement and can hold it in no longer…

Richard and I are leaving Canada on January 21st for a ten day tour of Israel! Although we’ve explored a number of fascinating places over the years, I don’t know if I’ve ever been as excited about a trip as I am about this one. When someone asked me recently if it was a mission trip or a vacation, I wasn’t sure how to answer. It’s definitely not a mission trip, but I hadn’t really been thinking of it as a vacation either. So what is it? Our pastor came up with the perfect term. We’re going on a pilgrimage!

Pilgrimage, a journey undertaken for a religious motive. Although some pilgrims have wandered continuously with no fixed destination, pilgrims more commonly seek a specific place that has been sanctified by association with a divinity or other holy personage. (www.britannica.com)

Knowing that I’m going to stand on Mount Carmel where the prophet Elijah called down the fire of God and the Mount of Beatitudes where Jesus Christ delivered his Sermon on the Mount; enjoy a boat ride on the Sea of Galilee where Jesus calmed the storm and walked on water; float in the Dead Sea; visit Bethlehem, the birthplace of Christ, and Nazareth where he spent his childhood; pray in the Garden of Gethsemane and view the modern city of Jerusalem from the Mount of Olives almost takes my breath away. These are just a few of the highlights of our very busy itinerary!

I’ve prepared differently for this trip than for any other. For me, doing lots of research before a trip is part of the fun of traveling, but this time I’ve done less of that and a lot more spiritual preparation. On Christmas Eve, I started reading through the gospels of Matthew, Mark, Luke and John in my NKJV Chronological Study Bible. Frequently referring to the maps at the back of the book, I jotted down the various locations and what happened at each of them. I’ve read all these accounts many times before, but this is the first time I’ve specifically focused on where things happened and it has really helped tie everything together. I finished that today and will spend the next few days looking at some Old Testament references.

As always, God’s timing is impeccable. My ladies Bible study group recently started doing Beth Moore’s study, Stepping Up, on the Psalms of Ascent (Psalms 120 to 134). In ancient times, Israelite pilgrims sang these psalms as they made their way up to the holy city of Jerusalem for the three great festivals of the Jewish calendar: Passover, the Feast of Weeks and the Feast of Tabernacles. What fitting preparation for my own pilgrimage which will culminate in that very city!

Of course, when people hear where we’re going, some of them think we’re crazy. “Aren’t you afraid?” they ask. No, I can honestly say that I’m not. I’m not naive; I know what’s been happening in that part of the world, but afraid? Not in the slightest. I feel a deep sense of peace knowing that we’ll be as much in the palm of God’s hand in Israel as we are anywhere else on the planet. We are going on a guided tour though. We’ve wandered some pretty sketchy parts of Asia on our own, but I do draw the line at the Middle East. There, I want the safety of a group and a reputable tour company that has sent hundreds of people and brought them all home safely.

We’ll be staying in some pretty nice hotels where Wifi will be available, but this is the trip of a lifetime and I don’t plan to spend it sitting at a keyboard. The blog will be silent while I’m away, but I will have lots to share when we return!

You are what you wear

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What we wear affects the way we feel. Have you ever watched a little girl dance and twirl while her pretty skirt swirls around her? Her joy simply overflows. The same is true of we adults. As superficial as it may sound, the right dress or a stunning pair of shoes can be just what a woman needs to give her the confidence to rock an important interview or a boardroom presentation.

Taking care with how you dress also sends a message that you care about yourself. “If I throw on a large, over sized T-shirt and do not fix my hair or makeup, then the message to me and others is that I don’t care or matter,” writes popular fashion blogger, Pam Lutrell.

Over recent years, my interest in fashion has grown and I’ve given more thought to what my clothing says about me, but there’s an even finer way of dressing that is much more important to me.

“As God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience.” Colossians 3:12 NIV

I’m not in the habit of making New Years resolutions, but I do want my 2016 wardrobe to include:

  • compassion ~ I want my life to exhibit sensitivity and concern for the sufferings or misfortunes of others.
  • kindness ~ I want to treat others with warmth and affection.
  • humility ~ I want to accept myself as I truly am, but not consider myself better than anyone else.
  • gentleness ~ I want to treat others with tenderness and be a calming influence.
  • patience ~ I want to have the grace to accept whatever happens in life without anger or complaint.

By clothing myself in these basic items, I hope to experience the joy of the little girl in the swirling skirt, the confidence of the successful businesswoman and the peace that comes from living in harmony with those around me.

I wish the same for you in the New Year!

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Welcome to Canada!

/ edebock / 8 Comments

I spent one afternoon last week working as a volunteer in our local second hand store. As I looked around the tiny shop, I couldn’t help noticing how the face of our small community has changed. Like almost every other rural community across the Canadian prairie, the town we raised our children in, just a few short years ago, had one Chinese family running a restaurant. There was also a doctor of East Indian descent who originally hailed from Ghana. That was about it for multiculturalism. The rest of us could trace our ancestry to various parts of Europe, but that’s no longer the case. In the shop that afternoon, there was my friend, Karen, a temporary foreign worker from the Philippines and over there, a young Asian couple. I’m pretty sure they were Korean. Another Korean family lives kitty-corner from me. In the shop, there was also a young Mexican Mennonite man, one of many who have made this area home over the past few years, and two women from one of the nearby Hutterite colonies. I live around the corner from a family from South Africa and another family of newcomers bought the house at the end of our street. The wife is from Honduras and her husband, El Salvador. Yes, our community has changed. It has opened its arms and welcomed the world and I love it!

Now we’re faced with the current refugee crisis and our government’s decision to open our country’s doors to 25 000 Syrians. Sadly, many are responding in ignorance and fear.

There are fears, perhaps even legitimate fears, that terrorists may hide themselves in the masses and infiltrate our peaceful nation and fears that jobs may be lost to these newcomers, but as I watched the news last night and looked into the faces of the sixteen weary Syrians who arrived at the Calgary airport yesterday, I saw people, real people, some with fear in their own eyes. Imagine for a moment what they have been through, what they’ve sacrificed, what they’ve left behind to begin a new life in a new and very strange land. They are not here to make our lives worse, but to make their own lives better and in so doing, they can make our country richer if we give them the opportunity. Who are we, born in Canada through no effort of our own, and benefitting greatly from the hard work and sacrifice of those who came before us, who were themselves newcomers from foreign lands looking for a better life, to close our doors and our hearts to these whose very lives have been torn apart by the atrocities of war? Who do we think we are?

Sadly, I also see racism in the response of some of my fellow Canadians. Canadians like the elderly man working the till at Walmart yesterday, who, during a few moment’s conversation while checking and bagging our purchases, complained bitterly that he’d soon be out of work because “one hundred of those Syrians are coming to Camrose and they’re going to take jobs from all the good people!” Perhaps I should have asked him where his people came from. He certainly didn’t appear to be of First Nations descent!

Much of the fear stems from the fact that these newcomers are Muslims, descendants of Esau, betrayed and robbed of his birthright by his twin brother, our spiritual ancestor, Jacob (Genesis 25-27). They are Muslims, painted with the same brush as the extremists who behead Christians on the beaches of north Africa and who strap explosives to their bodies and blow themselves to smithereens in the public places of Paris, killing and maiming hundreds of innocent bystanders. Are these the Muslims who seek refuge in our country? I don’t think so! That’s like saying that all Chinese Canadians are like Vince Weiguang Li who beheaded a fellow passenger on a Greyhound bus on the way to Winnipeg in July 2008 and ate some of his flesh!

It would be naive to suggest that there won’t be any problems involved in opening our borders to such a huge influx of refugees and I join my voice with others in urging our government to use wisdom and diligence in choosing who will be allowed to come, but how much worse will the problems be if we greet these newcomers with fear and animosity instead of extending a hand of compassion? The government has promised intense and rigorous security checks of each person who arrives in Canada and there is every reason to believe that this current wave of refugees will face the same scrutiny and review as all those who have come before them. For more information on that process, you can go here. Our new Prime Minister has already delayed the December 31 deadline for allowing the 25 000 to enter the country in order to “get it right”. The three families that arrived in Calgary yesterday all escaped war-torn Syria a year ago and have been waiting in Lebanon for permission to come to Canada where they were greeted by family members already living there.

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It is the response of some of my fellow Christ-followers that bothers me most of all. Yes, the Christian face of our country is rapidly changing, but if God has called us to reach the lost for Christ, how much easier will it be for us if they come to us? Not many of us can “go and make disciples of all nations” (Matthew 28:19) but we can reach out to the ones who move in next door to us with love and compassion and be the hands of Christ to them. It is not only immigrants of other faiths who are robbing our country of its Christian heritage, it is also those born and raised here who have become so self-sufficient and so self-centred that they see no need for a god of any kind and can only express hatred toward those they don’t understand or agree with.

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Photos: Darren Makowichuk/Calgary Sun

Hope and a future!

/ edebock / 6 Comments

It’s been awhile since I wrote an update about my battle with cancer which is, in itself, an indication that things have been going well. There really hasn’t been much to report which is a good thing! Yesterday, we sat down with one of my specialists to discuss the results of recent CT and PET scans. Though we weren’t expecting anything dire, I think we both walked out of his office feeling like a load had been lifted off our shoulders. Yes, the news was that good!

As many of you are aware, I have dealt with two completely separate and unrelated cancers over the past two years. The first good news was that there is absolutely no sign of the acinic cell cancer that was removed surgically and treated with radiation last summer. I have routine follow-up appointments with both the surgeon and the radiation oncologist next week, but I’m certain that they’re going to tell me that everything is fine.

We already knew that my primary neuroendocrine tumour, which is located in my colon, has been shrinking as a result of the radioisotope (Lutetium) treatments that I’ve been having. Yesterday we learned that the other four tumours, three on my liver and one in a lymph node, have not changed in size since diagnosis. That’s a glass half full / half empty kind of statement. While it would be nice to hear that they too are shrinking, the fact that they have not grown and that there are no new ones is actually very good news.

Another indication that the disease is stable, that my tumours are essentially dormant now, is hormone production. Neuroendocrine tumours (NETS) produce serotonin, a hormone that we all have in our bodies. Serotonin is sometimes referred to as one of the happiness hormones because a deficit may to lead to depression, but an excess secreted by neuroendocrine tumours results in carcinoid syndrome which, as in my case, results in symptoms that include abdominal cramping and diarrhea, skin flushing, and periods of rapid heart rate. It can also lead to heart disease and other complications. A 24 hour urine test is used to measure the amount of serotonin in the body. I don’t yet understand exactly what the numbers mean, but I was told yesterday that my level at diagnosis was 150. A year ago, it was down to 69 and now, it’s 42. Apparently, normal is around 40. That would indicate that my tumours are no longer actively producing serotonin which is definitely good news!

So what does all this mean for the future? There is no cure for NETS. Even if my tumours were to disappear completely which happens very rarely, I would not be considered cured, but I am now entering a maintenance phase. For the next two years, I will receive a Lutetium treatment every six months instead of every 9 to 12 weeks as has happened so far. Then, if things continue to go well, we’ll go to a treatment every nine months. Yesterday was the first time we were even told of that possibility!

“I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”  Jeremiah 29:11

Yesterday was definitely a day that gave us hope and a day that gave me greater confidence of a future here on this side of heaven! The battle isn’t over, in fact it never will be, but for now it’s getting easier and that’s enough for me!

Born To Be Wild

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I saw the painting Born To Be Wild by Norwegian artist, Sylvia Sotuyo, for the first time the day before yesterday on the NET Cancer Day Facebook page and it immediately spoke to me in a way that art seldom does. I looked at it over and over again, each time asking myself what it is about that figure that inspires me so. I even posted it as my Facebook profile picture. Why? Because I see it as a picture of me! I may not look like this to you and it isn’t what I see in the mirror, but I know it’s me!

I contacted the artist and she graciously gave me permission to share her painting here and to try to explain what it means to me, but first, let me share her description of it:

The dynamic human tree represents the strength and stamina of the tree, combined with the power and intelligence of the human being. The human tree stands proudly, well grounded to earth, and reaches towards the sky to achieve all it`s hopes and dreams…

I, too, see it as a symbol of strength and hope, but I see other things that the artist may not have had in mind. First of all, the zebra is the symbol of neuroendocrine tumours (NETS), the incurable cancer that I was diagnosed with almost two years ago. Neuroendocrine tumours are difficult to diagnose. The symptoms are usually vague and similar to more common health problems. Many family doctors have never encountered a NETS patient. When presented with symptoms like stomach pain and diarrhea, they naturally think of things like Irritable Bowel Syndrome, Crohn’s Disease or lactose intolerance. Medical students are taught “when hearing hoofbeats, think of horses, not zebras.” Neuroendocrine tumours are very rare and therefore they are considered to be zebras.

Since my diagnosis, I’ve noticed zebra stripes everywhere! In recent years, the fashion world has been inundated with animal prints and the zebra is definitely a popular motif. I’ve seen zebra t-shirts, zebra leggings, zebra pjs and even zebra bras. I’ve tried on zebra jeans and a sexy looking zebra dress, but I didn’t buy either one. I’ve also seen zebra handbags and zebra luggage. One of the ladies I occasionally play golf with has a zebra golf bag. Obviously, it was the zebra stripes on the figure in Sotuya’s painting that prompted the NET Cancer Day organization to post it on their Facebook page and that initially caught my eye, but there’s more than that to my fascination with it.

Like the tree, I’m more firmly rooted to one place than I was before my diagnosis. I receive a monthly injection to alleviate the symptoms mentioned above that has to be administered by a specially trained nurse. Fortunately, I can arrange to have the injection given anywhere in Canada. In fact, plans are already in place for me to have my next one in Vancouver, but arranging to have it given outside the country would be much more complicated. There likely won’t be any more long term stints teaching English or doing missionary work overseas in my future.

I’m also firmly rooted in my faith, however. It’s my absolute confidence that my life is in God’s hands that gives me the freedom and joy that I see represented by the outstretched arms or branches of the figure in the painting. I see strength and purpose in those arms as well as exuberance.

The figure is also graceful, possessing an elegance that I would like to think is true of me. I often pray that I might be a woman of grace, one who doesn’t allow the circumstances of life to define who I am. When I was diagnosed with cancer, I fervently prayed that God would enable me to endure whatever lay ahead with grace.

As the title of the painting implies, there’s also a wildness in her. I, too, am a little bit wild at heart. It’s not a loud or out of control sort of wildness, but I believe in living life to the fullest and I’m always ready to try something new. I don’t like to follow the crowd and I don’t always see eye to eye with the people who love me. I speak my mind, but I don’t fly off the handle. I love nothing more than a hike in the wilderness or a walk on a beach and just because I’m in my 60s doesn’t mean I can’t climb a tree! Yes, I’m a little bit wild; a little bit unconventional and I think this is a picture of me!

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You can see other examples of Sylvia Sotuyo’s work and even purchase prints here.

Why the rainbow?

/ edebock / 15 Comments

What I’m about to say will probably be offensive to some, but I’m going to say it anyway because I am also offended. I understand that there are those who are celebrating the US Supreme Court’s historic decision to legalize same sex marriage across that nation, but I am offended by the rainbows that are cropping up everywhere. I was offended when I came to WordPress to write this post and found a rainbow banner plastered across the top of the page. I was offended when I went to Facebook today and encountered numerous rainbowed profile pictures.

Don’t get me wrong. Am I offended because people are using Facebook’s rainbow filter to express their sexual orientation or to show support for gay friends and/or loved ones? No! I am offended in the same way that I take offence to non Christians taking Christ out of Christmas and Easter. I am offended because the LGBT community chose as their symbol something that God used to symbolize something entirely different. Personally, I think there’s significance in that.

So, how did the rainbow become a symbol of gay pride? For some, it’s many colours simply represent diversity within the LGBT community. The rainbow flag was originally designed by San Francisco artist, Gilbert Baker, in the 1970s and had eight stripes: hot pink to represent sex, red for life, orange for healing, yellow for the sun, green for serenity in nature, turquoise for art, indigo for harmony and violet for spirit. The pink stripe was eliminated first when Baker approached a company to mass produce the flags and discovered that hot pink fabric was not available commercially. Given what the flag stands for, I find it quite hilarious that he simply chose to eliminate the stripe representing sex! Indigo was later removed to give the flag an even number of stripes. Again, I find it a bit odd that the stripe representing harmony was removed. If there is anything that’s needed where this topic is concerned, it’s harmony!

But, why am I offended by this use of the rainbow? Christian or not, you are probably familiar with the biblical story of Noah’s ark. According to Genesis 6, a time came when “The Lord saw how great man’s wickedness on the earth had become, and that every inclination of the thoughts of his heart was only evil all the time.” Perhaps, a time not so different from our own! We are told that God “was grieved that He had made man on the earth, and His heart was filled with pain.” As a result, He decided to send a flood to wipe out mankind, but He chose to preserve one family, the family of a righteous man named Noah, to begin again. When the flood waters finally receded and Noah’s family, as well as the animals that had been preserved with them, were able to leave the ark, Genesis 9 tells us that God made a covenant with them that never again would flood waters destroy all life on earth. Then, He set a rainbow in the sky as a sign of His promise.

“Whenever the rainbow appears in the clouds, I will see it and remember the everlasting covenant between God and all living creatures of every kind on the earth.”  Genesis 9:16 NIV

That’s the rainbow I’m thankful for; a symbol of hope in a world that often seems devoid of hope! We live in a time of moral decay and depravity, but our God has promised not to send the flood waters to swallow us up! I take offence to the symbol of that promise being used for anything else, most especially something that I do not believe my God would celebrate.

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As always, I invite you to leave a comment. Given the controversial nature of this topic, however, I urge you to do as I have tried to do and express your views without attacking anyone.

It’s Wink Day!

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June 18, 2015 is Wink Day! The Canadian beauty industry, through their charitable foundation, Beauty Gives Back, has been encouraging women to post pictures and videos (with the hashtag #winkday) of themselves wearing blue eyeshadow today in support of women going through the emotional trauma of the Cancer Blues. The Cancer Blues is a term, coined by Beauty Gives Back, for the emotional distress caused by cancer and its treatment and is an often ignored consequence of the disease that can affect a person’s ability to fight and thrive through the ordeal.

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For over 20 years, Beauty Gives Back has supported tens of thousands of Canadian women through the Cancer Blues with programs such as Look Good Feel Better and FacingCancer.ca. “We are a ‘feel good’ industry – colourful, sexy and fun. We use colour to make women look good and feel better every day, so no one knows more about how women feel about themselves than we do,” says the Beauty Gives Back website. “We count over 95% of Canadian women as customers in their lifetime. And we cannot, and will not, abandon those same women when they are fighting for their lives against cancer. Therefore, the mandate of Beauty Gives Back is clear, real and relevant: We dedicate ourselves to treating the emotional fallout from cancer. Using the sum total of our knowledge, experience, expertise and resources, we do what women trust and rely on us to do – to make them feel human again in the face of the ravages of cancer and its treatment. In doing so, we help restore their confidence, and the confidence of those around them, to continue fighting with conviction and living with dignity.”

That’s definitely a cause that I could get behind, especially when all it took was a bit of blue eyeshadow, a camera and social media! Since we’re visiting in Calgary, daughter, Melaina, and granddaughter, Jami-Lee, joined in the fun. Even Jami’s cat, Duncan, with his blue collar, had to get in on the action!

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In spite of dealing with two completely separate cancers over the past two years, one of them incurable, I can honestly say that, though I have, of course, faced some emotional symptoms, I have not really suffered from the Cancer Blues. I can easily understand how it could happen though. I feel blessed to have had the amazing support of family, friends and a fantastic medical team. I have the good fortune of living just two hours away from the Cross Cancer Institute in Edmonton, Alberta, a world class treatment centre that is truly dedicated to treating the whole person. A Look Good, Feel Better workshop early last year was fun and a very helpful diversion from the more serious sides of dealing with my illness, but above all, I attribute my lack of mental distress to my undying faith in God who assured me the day after I learned that I had cancer, “I’ve got this in my hands. I know what’s going on. I’m going to take care of you!”

It’s not too late to get in on the Wink Day action! Photos and videos can be posted throughout the month of June. Why not wink with us?

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Farewell dear friend

/ edebock / 22 Comments

There’s a party going on in heaven today. I’m absolutely certain of it! Our dear friend, Mary, went to be with her Lord in the wee hours of this morning and our loss is definitely heaven’s gain.

Mary Cameron 1917 - 2015

Mary Cameron
1917 – 2015

Photo: Deborah Proctor

 

Life was not always kind to Mary, but she took it in stride and never lost her fiery spirit. She came to Canada from her beloved Ireland as a war bride, leaving behind a home equipped with all the conveniences of the day and finding herself on the lonely Canadian prairie without electricity or running water. She knew the heartbreak of losing a child and endured the break-up of her marriage, but oh how fiercely she loved and how vibrantly she laughed! At 98 years old, Mary still lived alone in her own house and took part in activities at the local seniors’ centre where she was an avid bridge player. She stopped coming to church regularly only when we all stopped speaking loud enough for her to hear us. Of course, it couldn’t possibly have been that her hearing was going!

Mary was tiny in body, but huge in character. For the past twenty years or more, she was known as my husband’s “other wife.” At the reception following the funeral of an elderly gentleman from our church, a lady from out of town met Mary and the two of them struck up a conversation. Later in the afternoon, before she left, the lady returned to Mary’s table to bid her good bye. At that point, Richard was sitting beside Mary and the woman, obviously without looking too closely, said “Oh, this must be your husband.” Mary immediately went off into peals of laughter and from that moment on, always referred to Richard, who was 33 years her junior, as her husband. She loved nothing better than to raise eyebrows by referring to him as such in public settings where she would then have to tell the story of how she became his “other wife.”

Richard was MC at Mary’s 98th birthday celebration just three weeks ago where she was as bright and vibrant as ever. Sadly, I wasn’t able to be there as I’d had a treatment earlier that week and was radioactive. I was looking forward to popping over and having tea with her as soon as I felt well enough (that’s a story for another day) but now I’ll have to wait until we meet again on the streets of gold.

Mary was especially close to our youngest son, Nate. During his teenage years, she hired him to do her yard work. When he finished, she’d always have a cold pop waiting for him and they would sit and visit. Since he’s been grown and gone from home, whenever Mary saw me, she’d ask how “her boy” was doing and when he was coming home again. When he did, even if if it was only for the day, he’d almost always drop in to see her.

Three years ago, when Richard and I were performing in a community theatre production, Nate came home to attend one of our dinner theatre performances and took Mary as his date! Like any good date would, he took flowers when he went to pick her up and when I stopped by their table after the performance, she was glowing!

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Mary was always one to speak her mind and you never knew for sure what she might say! The first time Nate brought Colleen home, he took her over to meet Mary who, after spending a few minutes getting to know his girl, expressed her approval by telling him that she was very happy that he hadn’t brought home a trollop! That’s a Maryism that won’t soon be forgotten! I’m sure it will long be part of our family lore.

While chatting with my daughter this afternoon, I asked her how I could possibly put our Mary into words and she gave me a great illustration. I’m not a Dr. Who fan like she is, but according to Melaina, Mary was like the TARDIS, Dr. Who’s time machine/spaceship, “small on the outside, but endless on the inside.” Yes, our lives will definitely be a little less colourful without Mary in them, but oh how blessed we are to have known her!