11:06 a.m. - 2005-01-07
There is all of an inch of snow on the ground, and much of the city is in turmoil. Private Schools have closed. Some bus routes are off line. People are refusing to leave their homes.
I laugh! Hahaha!
This is a city that prides itself on being able to mow their lawns on Christmas day. Not because they need to, but because they can. We snicker behind our ‘tweed curtain’ at the cold winter antics of the rest of the country. Charlottetown, PEI gets 3 feet over night! Teeheehee. Winnipeg reports 40 below (celcius) before the wind-chill factor. Bwahahahaha. Calgary's airport has shut down due to excessive winds, causing large snow drifts. Oh my, my, my.
Now the tables are slightly turned, if only for a day, and we find ourselves poorly equipped and eating crow. Which brings to mind the lyrics of a song from “Evita”. Don’t cry for me Argentina … in truth I never left you … Only our lyrics would say … Don’t laugh at us cold Canada … in truth I only own summer tires … Or something along those lines.
Sidenote: I grew up and lived in parts of Canada that really do get winter. I am well aware of proper procedures for snow. I thank God I live on the west coast and enjoy this temperate climate, even when we unexpectedly get a skiff or two.
I’m sure it will be back to green in a day or two, but for now I look out my office window at the long commute of 50 feet to my house, and sigh and drink my tea.
On other news fronts for – Friday, January 7th, 2005 – today is the 5th anniversary of my father’s death. I approach this day with a mixture of feelings. Up until this day 5 years ago I had kept my parents out of my life for 7 years. They were an unhealthy influence that I could not grow through had they been allowed to tamper in my process.
Losing a parent is something you can’t describe until you pass through its doors. My parents didn’t deserve me, but that’s a choice that God made. I can now reflect back and know that God held my hand through each and every moment of my childhood (and life). Each time my father took advantage of a little girl who did not question her father’s authority. Each time I accepted and believed the verbal abuse that came from an alcoholic mothers mouth.
The phone call I received at 2 o’clock in the morning of January 7th, 2000 hit like a ton of brick but came from a voice of a frail old woman I had, over the years, created into a monster. The monster myth now dispelled. And the only thing I could think of in that split second of news … was that I had to get ‘home’.
My thoughts were scattered for the day. One moment I wept, the next moment I would be staring distantly off, as if the weight of my thoughts were too much to bare. On the plane ride from Victoria to Calgary I could not concentrate on the magazine I had purchased. Instead, I took out my bible and began to pray. God, in His infinite wisdom, spoke softly but clearly to me as we travelled together. You see, even there in a plane, thousands of feet above the earth, He held me close and tight. He directed me towards a passage that I never recall reading before, Zephaniah 3:14-17. In these scriptures God was addressing the people of Israel, but to me that night – He was affirming me in my own life. The verses read:
Sing, O Daughter of Zion;
As I finished reading this I felt the warmth of my tears falling down my face. Not tears of grieving, but tears of overwhelming joy, and peace and a deeper knowledge of a love that is greater than anything I will ever experience, or ever had.
Too this day that verse still brings a peace to my heart, and a gentle reminder of a time when I could not see clearly my surroundings or who I was. The man who had been a part of the reason for my existence on this earth was no longer alive. The evil that he had done could not be erased, but would not continue. He was standing face to face with his Creator, and no one will ever know what explanations he gave for his life choices. But I knew then what I know now – I am loved beyond my comprehension by a Heavenly Father who holds me closer than any human ever could, or ever will.
I floated through the next few days, as most people do when confronted with the death of a parent, or close family member. We all did, in my parent’s home in Alberta – my mom, my eldest brother and his family, my middle brother from California, and myself. We huddled together in a common bond of shock and grief, but I had a peace that came from somewhere deep within me, and I cherished this time. I still do.
But for today - I think of my dad and remember ...