Thoughts from Chickadee Lane

For many of us of the Christian tradition, this week marked the beginning Lent. Perhaps you joined an Ash Wednesday service and heard the words “to dust you shall return.” You might have noticed some of your friends with ash on their forehead.   My introduction to Ash Wednesday happened, when as a young adult Protestant, who knew nothing about Catholicism, I told a friend she had dirt on her forehead! And I was trying to be helpful!   Wednesday David and I literally embraced the reality that ‘to dust we shall return’ as we met with our lawyer to update our wills.   This has been something we have talked about for months. If you had asked me if I had an up to date will, that is reviewed every five years, I would have answered, ‘Yes.’ In reality it has been seven years! How easily time slips by.   Updating my will causes me to face my mortality - something I have embraced intellectually, yet to be honest, not so much in my heart. Still the death of three close friends ...

It was a beautiful sunny afternoon as I settled into writing today’s blog. I was just in from driving a kidney dialysis patient to their home. I do this under the umbrella of Dial a Ride - a program that coordinates volunteer drivers with patients in need of assistance with transportation.   Driving home on this beautiful afternoon, I began to ponder, “Why do I do this?” “What motivates me?” First I had to make a decision, a choice. To stay home or get involved. To stay with the familiar or embrace a new adventure. Over and over my Spirit chooses the unknown… such as writing this blog.   When I head out to pick up a patient, I have a name and address. Often I am not familiar with the street or apartment building entrance. Let’s just say I am getting to know a few more streets and communities.   Driver and passenger are strangers to one another as we meet for the first time when they take a seat in my car. Passengers are trusting me to safely get them to or from their app...

For the past few months I had the sweet, profound and oh so sad Holy honour to join in a long goodbye that ended on Tuesday as friends and family gathered to celebrate the life of one we have known and loved. After a few years of living with cancer, it became apparent that the tide had turned. And as it would return to the sea, it would be taking our friend along.   While we can predict with accuracy when the tide will retreat, when someone dies that moment of retreat is not so predictable. Even as death is marked by a particular moment in time on the clock, the retreat may happen slowly as it did with my friend. I’ve been pondering the many blessings my friend offered in that long goodbye.   When life can often distract us from the inevitability of endings, the gift of a long goodbye gave time to consider my own mortality and what comes next. The gift of a long goodbye gave time for family to experience the gift of nursing in the twilight hours.   The gift of a long...

It seems fitting that on this February 2nd I give a nod to the notorious Groundhog Day Gale of 1976. For those of you who live in southwestern New Brunswick you know about that day. Indeed, one does not have to say much more than, “Remember the Groundhog Day Gale,” and stories bubble forth like fresh spring water. While I was watching for a groundhog shadow in Prince Edward Island, folks in southwestern NB were hunkering down. One neighbour recalls the night the city lights went out. He was working at an industrial site in Saint John. As he crossed the yard heading out to lunch, away went his hard hat. He recalls when a large tank blew over just missing a couple of cars. He remembers how an office window blew out leaving papers flying and ceiling tiles falling. It was surreal in many ways. The only city lights came from a tanker tied up at the harbour.   Not being safe to leave the job site, he stayed the night keeping an eye on things. At 3 am he remembers going to a little snack ...

Today’s offering is for those who like winter. If that is not your delight, then maybe skip to a cup of tea. If you happen to live in the Atlantic region I don’t have to tell you that this has been a week of snow! Winter has finally arrived! By the time you read this, you may be shovelling again!   I like winter. I like snow. I love snow blowing. On Monday, it was my delight to crank up the noisy snow blower and head into the snow banks. Of course I have the luxury of not being in a time crunch with an early morning commute. I love the snow blowing in my face. It takes me back to childhood memories of windy PEI, making snow angels, laughing, eating the snow stuck to wool mitts, staying out until we cried with frozen fingers and toes, Mom ‘sweeping us down’ with the straw broom, declaring, “Don’t take that snow inside!”   I like the way the blower digs through the snow. I like the straight edges.   I love the way you can see where you have been. So much of my daily work re...

After two days of rain, ice pellets, snow, freezing rain, and more ice pellets it was wonderful to see the sun yesterday. With the sun shining, the air crisp, it made for a delightful morning walk. So we did. A friend and I went for a winter walk along the twisted country road. It is worth noting that walking along the road where I live is not for the faint of heart. The road is narrow, the hills steep and the traffic fast.   We chatted about a woman we never met in person, yet is made known through story and how her values are reflected in the way her family live their lives.   This ‘mother of ten,’ who raised most of her children as a single mother, was known to often repeat these words from Mark Twain as her life motto:   “Bitterness (acid) does more harm   to the vessel in which it is stored   than on that of which it is poured.” “Now there’s a blog for you,” said my friend.   So here we are.   It is worth repeating:   “Bitterness does more ha...

This week I am pondering language. Yesterday, Wednesday, January 11 was a beautiful day. The air crisp, the sun strong, a light snow dusting covered the land, frost clung to the trees like the ice crystals in the above picture. It was a beautiful day.   On this beautiful day, a group of friends gathered. As Maritimers do, we talked about the weather.   “It’s a beautiful day,” said one. “Yes, but you know… it is going to be nasty tomorrow,” said another. “It has been a beautiful winter with little snow,” said one.   “Yes, but you know we are going to get hit hard… with a bang!” said another.   I thought about that conversation and wonder, what deep message rests within our beings that creates an automatic response of foreboding?   My friend Ivan explains an ancient Celtic legend of ‘little people’ who come to steal things. Apparently, if you said something good, the ‘little people’ would come and steal it away. Since Celtic blood flows through many of our veins, ...