Farewell to 2020

Last walk of 2020

Like many people, I suspect, I've been giving a lot of thought to this year of 2020. There's a lot about it that we have complained about, some of it rightly so. But the bellyaching about minor inconveniences has driven me a little bit bonkers, because most of it has come from people who are very well off in comparison to our essential workers, medical staff, and those who were struggling due to marginalization and injustices since long before the pandemic was declared.

I guess that many of us had certain expectations of 2020, and then when the world was forced to slow down because of COVID-19, some of those expectations were dashed. But how bad was it, really? It was so bad that 1.81 million people have died. That's horrendous for every single person who lost people they love, and there's no getting around that kind of grief.

But... do we still have the love of our family and friends? Do we have a roof over our heads and food on our tables? Have we found new ways of connecting to the people who are important to us? Does nature continue to revive us when we spend time outdoors? Has our earth had a chance to breathe because of a lower level of consumption of its resources? 

No, we probably didn't travel great distances, and we may have sacrificed many things for the sake of the health of people we love, but the fact is that life changes in the blink of an eye all the time, it's just that we generally live in denial about that fact since it hasn't happened on a collective basis in North America since the World Wars.

2020 has been a year where we have been forced to realize that our way of life isn't as secure as we imagined it, and as a result, we have seen both the best and the worst of people. But to me it feels like rather than taking the credit or the blame ourselves for the way things have been going, we are assuming that if we can sweep the old year out the door and get a vaccine, things will automatically be better in the new year. The problem is that if we continue playing fast and loose with the truth, and if our leaders continue to choose wealth over wisdom, we'll be in worse shape yet in a year's time. It's up to us to demand better of ourselves and them.

Remember the cartoons of the old man year being followed by the baby new year? This afternoon, I made my own version of Old Man 2020, with his truthful comment, "But none of this was my fault!" If I was to do a follow up cartoon, I'd definitely remember to put a mask on him, and have the 'old man year' offer counsel to the 'baby new year' along the lines of, "Do your best to develop a thick skin. You'll need it!"

Throughout the year 2020, perhaps we have rediscovered the problem -- we've become a very individualistic society, which hasn't been very helpful in a time when we all need to pull together for the sake of the most vulnerable, and for ourselves. So I was delighted to discover the words of the US civil rights leader, John Lewis, who died earlier this year, in my inbox this morning. And I want to end this difficult year with his words, as an antidote to our individualistic tendencies in North America, and an encouragement toward positive change in 2021:

Study the path of others to make your way easier and more abundant. 

Lean toward the whispers of your own heart, discover the universal truth, and follow its dictates. 

Know that the truth always leads to love and the perpetuation of peace.  

Its products are never bitterness and strife. 

Clothe yourself in the work of love, in the revolutionary work of nonviolent resistance against evil. 

Anchor the eternity of love in your own soul and embed this planet with goodness. 

Release the need to hate, to harbor division, and the enticement of revenge.

Release all bitterness.

Hold only love, only peace in your heart, knowing that the battle of good to overcome evil is already won.

Choose confrontation wisely, but when it is your time, don't be afraid to stand up, speak up, and speak out against injustice.

And if you follow your truth down the road to peace and the affirmation of love, if you shine like a beacon for all to see, then the poetry of all the great dreamers and philosophers is yours to manifest in a nation, a world community, and a Beloved Community that is finally at peace with itself.

-- John Lewis with Brenda Jones, 

Across That Bridge: A Vision for Change and the Future of America 

(Hachette Books: 2017, ©2012), 208.

My "Uncle Vic" ring

My Uncle Vic is an amazing man, one of those people whose sometimes gruff exterior holds a heart of gold, the kind of guy whose straight face suddenly surprises you with a wink you didn't see coming. I didn't know him very well as I was growing up because he lived in Saskatoon, 520 km from my home, and when we did visit him, our visits were short because there were numerous relatives to see from both of my parents' families. But I always liked catching up with his kids, and seeing Uncle Vic and my dad kibbitzing. 

Over the last few years, I haven't been to Saskatoon, but my parents have told me some interesting stories about Uncle Vic. He got into and really enjoyed barbershop singing with a group in Saskatoon -- he's always had a great singing voice, coming from a pretty musical family. My kids were amazed by him and my dad harmonizing at a family reunion/birthday party a few years ago, as he was a great-uncle they had only just met, a part of their grandpa's life that they had missed out on. Vic was also a jack of all trades, having more varied occupations over the years than any of his brothers, or so it always seemed to me. 

Not long after I started my short-lived teaching career, I remember visiting with Uncle Vic and Auntie Jennie on my own steam, having driven all the way to Saskatoon without the rest of my family, a first visit as a young adult. We went out for lunch somewhere and caught up on life in general. When I learned that Uncle Vic was managing a jewelry store, a lightbulb went off in my head. I showed my uncle the birthstone ring I was wearing, good gold with a cheap imitation emerald that had a bad chip.

"I can fix that, no problem," he told me. "Just leave it with me." When I insisted on paying for the repair, he waved me off, saying it wasn't worth fretting about. So I gave him the address of the school where I was working in rural Alberta, and sure enough, about a month later, the school secretary handed me a very special package. My ring looked brand new, and I was so delighted! I sent Uncle Vic a thank you card and wore that ring proudly for many years, until my knuckles started to thicken and I couldn't slide it on and off my right ring finger very easily. I put it in my jewelry box, and only wore it on my birthdays.

In his retirement, Uncle Vic wasn't content to rest on his laurels, and took a job as Walmart Greeter in Saskatoon. The next thing the extended family knew, he was an internet sensation, because someone on a high-traffic Facebook page named him as their favourite greeter and all around good guy. There were dozens, if not hundreds of accolades from customers who appreciated his friendliness and his willingness to go the extra mile in helping people, and it was wonderful to see him recognized that way.

Unfortunately, 2020 has not been kind to my uncle, and my parents have been keeping me informed about a dementia diagnosis and other health issues. When I heard about Uncle Vic's struggles, I went straight to my jewelry box and put on my ring as a reminder to pray for him, Auntie Jennie and their family. The problem was that it only fit loosely on my little finger, but I took a chance and wore it anyway. In the midst of this pandemic, my aunt made the difficult decision to move to Calgary and stay with their daughter's family so she would have help caring for Uncle Vic, and many prayers from many people went with them.

About two weeks ago, after a wintry walk with Lee and the dog, I suddenly realized that Uncle Vic's ring was missing from my finger. I had switched from leather gloves to warmer mittens halfway through a walk around the Legislature grounds, and when I checked my gloves, mittens, pockets, the floor of the car, and every other possible place where the ring might have ended up, I grieved when I couldn't find it. Even more so when my dad called four days later to tell me that Uncle Vic was in hospital, diagnosed with terminal lung cancer.

It goes without saying that this is a tough Christmas for Uncle Vic and his family. They are never far from my thoughts and prayers. I was thinking about him this morning as I was sorting our clean clothes to put away... and when I went to put a couple of sweaters in my dresser drawer, I noticed a glint of gold and green at the bottom. 

My ring probably slipped off the last time I put my sweaters away, just before the walk! I laughed out loud, delighted to see it again, and slipped it onto my finger. There it stays, a constant reminder of these loved ones who are walking the toughest road right now, that of illness and decline, one that we all walk in different ways and at different times. I keep them all in my prayers, and ask God for wise healthcare professionals and gentle moments of music, simple joy and deep love for my uncle, aunt and cousins.

Update: Uncle Vic died early in the morning of January 6, the Feast of the Epiphany, with his daughter Nadine by his side. It's a comfort to know that God's presence was revealed (Epiphany means revelation) to him that day. Prayers for his family in this time of loss are appreciated.

Christmas Prayer 2020

I think it was an old "father of the church" named Irenaeus who said something like "God became human, so we could become divine." A very loose (and inclusive) translation, but one that I have been reflecting on throughout the days leading up to this Christmas.

Over the past few years, my heart and my belief in God have expanded to the point that I cringe whenever Christians insist on Jesus above everything, as if to say that all the other faiths in the world, many of them far more ancient than Christianity, are somehow less valid or valuable than Christian belief. I wish that everyone was able to take a course on World Religions, and learn that there is so much more to faith and spirituality than what our churches teach us.

But the one thing about Christianity that I really do appreciate is the idea that God wanted  to be with us, to live the life we live, to suffer as we suffer, to rejoice as we rejoice, and to teach us that if we rely on love to guide us, the world is a better place. So Jesus came in solidarity with our human condition, to remind us that when we let God's love guide us, we are more like the force that sustains the universe than like pitiful, fallible human beings.

After a month of meditation about God-coming-to-be-with-us, this is my Christmas prayer for all of us in this strange pandemic year:

You,
O God,

Emmanuel,
came to be with us
in all our struggles,
to demonstrate humility and selflessness
and to remind us 
that when we let love for all that is
guide our ways,
we are as close to you
as we can come.

Be with us
and move us
to reach out to all who are struggling
so that in our own struggles
we learn the solidarity
you came to teach us.

Bless us
and help us.

Help us to re-make our world

so that those who have much

divide what we have with those who have little,

so that those who are in sorrow

receive reasons for joy,

so that those who are sick 

reach good health once again, 

and those who are lonely

are surrounded by your love in us,

your people.

+Amen

Ecumenical Advent Prayer 2020

If you're looking for a bit of Advent reflection, here's an opportunity in these pandemic days to pray for our healthcare workers, those who are sick, and for an end to COVID-19 and its many related issues. I'll be livestreaming the prayer at 7 pm (Mountain Time) from the safety of my own home, thanks to the wonders of the internet, and we'll spend some time with scripture, silence and song, in a way that we can sing along in our own places with no worry about catching or spreading the virus. 

The icon of the Mother of Tenderness, above, written by a brother from the Taize community, will grace the prayer space as we anticipate the birth of Christ among us in these dark days. Those of us who long for God's light can sing it together. Feel free to copy the link below and share with friends...

Please join us by clicking here: https://www.facebook.com/events/381497772952842/

The green wall

For the last few years, I've been puzzling about how to have fresh tomatoes in winter without buying the tasteless greenhouse varieties that travel long distances -- and use more energy calories in the fossil fuels that transport them to me than my body could ever derive from them. A first world problem, to be sure, but I can't help it that I love tomatoes all year round. That's why I can and freeze as many as possible every autumn -- but even so, nothing beats a fresh, homegrown tomato!

So this year, we're trying an experiment. We cleared out the corner of our basement nearest to our furnace and moved our grow lights in from the greenhouse (which doesn't get enough sun or heat to grow anything in these darkest wintry days). Lee put up a few shelves on brackets, and I set 18 little tomato plants on them, curious to see how they will grow.

October 18

It's been over 40 days since this picture was taken, and things have been progressing. At first, we had issues with fungus gnats because tomato plants need good moisture or the fruit ends up with blossom end rot, and maybe I was overdoing the watering. Now I'm watering from the bottom, thanks to the recycled lasagna trays under each pot, and the gnats, which come from the top inch or so of the soil, have died down. 

Then, there was the issue of pollination -- which I have been handling with a small water colour paint brush, pretending to be a happy little bumblebee. And last week, I discovered that some of the plants were developing bad cases of powdery mildew fungus, which I spray treated with 1 part milk to 4 parts water solution. A good trick, that. I'm thinking to use it on my rose bushes next summer. 

These tomato plants aren't quite as hearty as I would hope -- maybe I planted the wrong varieties, their roots can't reach down through 3 meters of good soil, and I'm not fertilizing enough (my vermicomposters are just getting going again after being outdoors all summer, so there's no worm casting fertilizer yet, and I refuse to buy chemicals). The bone meal stuff we have leftover from the days before we got wise to more organic means simply isn't soluble. 

At least our plants get stalk thickening breezes from a couple of fans we've set on timers, and they are flowering and fruiting, so we should have a few edible tomatoes somewhere down the road. It's an experiment, and if there's a yield, that will be wonderful. 

Of course, I've already reaped the bonuses of keeping my fingers in the dirt in spite of winter, and of watching things grow!