Sustained reflection on another’s life

Posted on August 17, 2010 by doradueck

The death of an elder in the family circle pulls us out of our ordinary routines and obligations (including the blogs we write) and forces us into sustained reflection on that person’s life. In this case — my aunt’s death (see previous post) — it was a good experience.

M. Harder burial, Aug. 16, 2010

Not that this reflection was particularly organized as a formal activity, though some parts like the eulogy and service certainly were. Most of it happened in the course of planning, hosting siblings from out of town, and attending the viewing and funeral and burial. The reason we were doing out-of-the-ordinary things such as coming together was (Aunt) Margaret’s end, and so of course we shared round the death stories, and gave voice, for several days in a row, to our memories, questions, even speculations. When a few of us met, ostensibly to work on the eulogy, one cousin did most of the work (you can’t really write by committee) while the rest of us combed our late aunt’s photo albums and swapped stories the pictures provoked. On Sunday, with siblings and my mother gathered at our house, we pressed Mom for opinions about her late sister (and also her living ones), and we paged through some diaries Margaret left behind, reading nuggets aloud to one another. The open mic time at the funeral lunch yielded a further variety of reflection about this one woman’s life.

My brother who emceed that session reminded us that we really don’t know other people very well. It’s true. Even in the case of those we feel we know, the communal sharing and reminiscence that the rituals of death “force” upon us can enlarge and fill in the portrait. It’s an old saw that it’s too bad all this, especially the nice things that are said, happens only after the person dies. Yes, also true, but then again, perhaps because life is multi-faceted and necessarily busy, it’s the only way it really works. Death compresses the exercise of knowing, intensifies the reflection. For one week, it was all about someone else. The stew of things I’ve remembered and heard about my aunt will nourish me now as I pick up my regular routines.

Unexpectedly

Posted on August 10, 2010 by doradueck

Unexpectedly, yesterday, and for the second time in less than a year, I had the privilege of keeping company at the deathbed of an elderly relative.

My aunt Margaret Harder, 84, was admitted to hospital from the personal care home on Saturday; yesterday morning, tests revealed she had a blood clot in her lungs. Her last years have been a continuing story of failing health and memory, an unhappy story of changes and losses of all kinds, and it was determined that the best course — and the one she wanted — would be to respond with palliative care. She died at just before nine in the evening.

My aunt was a teacher. Once, as a young student, her hair got caught in the teacher’s jacket button when he bent to look at her work. Was he cross? At any rate, he frightened her, and Margaret decided then that when she was a teacher, no student would ever be afraid of her. I’m sure no student ever was. She was not without authority, but above all, there was gentleness in her. She also lavished on us, her nieces and nephews, and our children in turn, great kindness and generosity.

For many years, my aunt taught special needs students — those with physical challenges like muscular dystrophy and cerebral palsy. Yesterday afternoon, George, one of her former students with whom she remained in contact, came to the hospital. It was moving to watch him express his gratitude and affection for her and to see her lift her hand to his, the only time in the day that she made a gesture of this kind. He held her hand a long time.

During my aunt’s last hours, I couldn’t help but think of the next-to-final scene in Pilgrim’s Progress, where Christian and Hopeful must cross a cold, rushing river to reach the Celestial City. Margaret was not in pain, nor did she seem uncomfortable, but my, what a great deal of hard work it was to get across that last cold river! Yet she seemed to understand what it was for, and where she was going, and as far as we could tell, she was not afraid. And she got there, finally, resolute and well.

I thank God for the life and death of my aunt Margaret Harder.

Summer days

Posted on August 2, 2010 by doradueck

MHV windmill

H. and I went to Pioneer Days at the Mennonite Heritage Village in Steinbach today. We’ve been at the Village various times over the years, and it’s always a great way to spend a day. This time, among the “attractions” on offer at Pioneer Days such as demonstrations of spinning, bread baking, blacksmithing and more, yours truly was reading from This Hidden Thing in the site’s Lichtenau Church. (It’s one of two churches at MHW; as curator Roland Sawatzky said, “Any good Mennonite village has to have at least two churches!”) It was good to visit with some folks we know, but also to meet new readers and to know that besides locally, copies of the book are heading to Toronto and to Pennsylvania!

Lichtenau church, where readings and book launches are held. It's the first church built by Mennonites of the 1920s emigration from Russia.

After the reading, it was time to indulge in a waffle with sauce — cooked outside in an old cast iron mould, one-and-a-half minutes per waffle we were told. A waffle fills an entire plate. Then we listened to “3 Mol Plaut,” a group that sings in Low German. I probably understood less than a quarter of what they sang, and got even fewer of the jokes, but H., who grew up with the language, could be heard chuckling throughout. Low German lends itself to any number of plays on words. (Actually, it often sounds amusing to me even when I don’t catch on.) We didn’t stick around for the supper-hour tribute to Elvis, however; not sure how that works in this context!

Last year at this time we were down in Paraguay for the Mennonite World Conference and an extended visit to family in the Chaco, but this summer, except for a quick trip to a nephew’s wedding in Saskatoon last weekend and my few days at a conference in B.C., we’ve been at home. H. had a pleasantly light July, work-wise (he’s a drywall contractor) and it’s been lovely, sitting on the front porch or back deck (depending on the sun), watching the tomatoes ripen, reading, and catching up on home projects. August will be busier for both of us, but what a treat these summer days have been so far. — (Thank You, thank You, thank You!)