Words of Remembrance for Mother in Law

In this life you don't always get to choose how things play out.  And you never know what the future holds.  For us, 2013 has been one of those years that you won't soon forget - and so far it's been for sad, unfortunate, unplanned reasons.  Almost exactly 3 months after my writing and presenting my mom's eulogy at her funeral service, Karen's mom suddenly passed away after a quick battle with liver cancer and I find myself again looking back at a life into which I had the honour of being accepted.

Here are the words I shared at her service yesterday:

Alberta Elaine Bomak (1942-2013)

As long as we have memories, yesterday remains

As long as we have hope, tomorrow waits

And as long as there is Friendship, today is Beautiful

You will be hard pressed to find a better quote to sum up the way Bert saw and approached life.  She was the family historian; the keeper of the stories of the past, of the memories of yesterday. She was the eternal optimist who always saw the bright side; whose glass was always half full and who never ever let the obstacles of life get her down.  And she was a true friend to all who crossed her path; dedicated and faithful and compassionate and giving - her laugh and her smile brightened every room she entered, and all who knew her were better for the experience.

Born in Dauphin and raised in the Duck Mountains for the first 10 years, Bert nurtured the qualities that would guide her for her lifetime.  Surrounded by the abundance and beauty of nature, she fostered a deep appreciation for all living things, and found joy and beauty in even the simplest wild flower. 

Her green thumb came naturally then, and was always on display in her yard and garden in Dauphin.  Bert could spend the entire day out weeding and tending and nurturing her plants and flowers, and often did, visiting with and chatting to neighbors, themselves knee-deep in their backyard gardens.

Theres an honesty and goodness that can only be found in conversations with your fellow man, shared while each is busy with the grounded earthiness of planting, weeding and harvesting.  And Bert had that honesty and goodness in spades.

The Britcher lumber camp and sawmill also imprinted young Alberta with the essential qualities of the value of hard work and the necessity of cooperation and generosity for success in any endeavor.  The lumber business could be brutal, hard work, and it demanded strong, willing hearts and minds in order to survive and prosper, and those hearts and minds needed to be well feed and watered.  Feeding and looking after a bush camp is not for the timid or shy, and Bert carried those lessons into her family life in Dauphin.

Anyone who had the pleasure of joining Tony and Bert for meals or parties at their home on 7th Ave can attest to how easy Bert made it seem to feed an entire neighbourhood; how effortlessly she would add more plates to an already overcrowded table and make room for unexpected guests - and always Bert would give up her spot at the table for you, disappearing downstairs and quickly reappearing with more food and dainties from the freezer; complete meals in minutes, always more than enough.

And baking! Pies and cookies and desserts and dainties - she was always baking and freezing and taking trays of goodies to events and occasions.  Award winning recipes that we will forever miss, never quite able to perfect her methods just the way she did.  Like her lemon merengue pie or her cinnamon buns... And if she wasn't baking she was canning - fruits and vegetables and pickles - the shelves in the cold room overflowing with the abundance of the summer garden, and enjoyed during those long, cold winter months.

Bert loved people, and people loved Bert.  She carried a ready smile and a quick laugh and always had a story to share!  She knew her family's stories back to the Mayflower and Admiral Dewey, and was never lost for a date or a place that an event took place, and she could tell you what the weather was like that early March morning back in '52 and what they served for dinner, and who sat where around the table, and what the conversation was about that night...

But it wasn't only her family's stories she told or knew - she seemed to know everyone  and was related to half of them, and she knew all the generations and who was related to whom and how and she knew their stories too.  She knew your stories better than you did!  And when she told those stories her eyes would light up with a brightness and life that seemed to carry her on for hours, and her laugh would fill the room and she soon had everyone laughing with her. 

Her home was a warm, inviting place for all, and together with Tony they welcomed family, friends and neighbours to come in and join them and have a drink and something to eat and share some laughs and enjoy the company of others.  Any occasion was cause for a get together - the 7th Avenue crowd never needed an excuse to get together - but it was the same for Church friends, or work friends, or family friends, and more often than not, those groups began to overlap and in the end all became just good friends.

And with her, through her, all our yesterdays remained.

But as much as Bert had our yesterdays preserved, it was her outlook on life and her version of tomorrow that really defined her life. 

She was always cheery and optimistic, expecting the best and shrugging off the worst, selectively ignoring advice and information if it didnt suit her version of how things were going to be.  Happy and smiling and seemingly always in a good mood, she met life head on and kept winning the battles thrown her way.  Her health was always a concern and while she didnt always follow her doctors (or her daughter's) medical orders to a tee, her positive outlook carried her far further than maybe it should have.  It's a trait we all should consider adopting.

  

The Church played a large role in Bert's faith in the goodness and certainty of tomorrow and it played a large part in her daily life.  Tony and Bert were active members of the church, and Bert learned enough Ukrainian to be able to follow along to mass without much difficulty.  Her baking graced many a table in this hall, and as a fitting tribute, it will grace some of the tables here today as well...

Bert always had plans for tomorrow.  Places to go, friends to see, someone in the hospital to visit, something to take baking too, a trip to Winnipeg to see her doctors...

No time to worry or regret, too busy looking forward.

And then there were her todays, always filled with friendship and love; her life a beautiful, fragrant, bouquet, and each of you, all of you her friends, a unique and perfect flower in that bouquet. If Bert gave you her word, that was all you needed.  If she said she'd get it done, it got done.  It was that way at the Town office and then again at the RM office, you knew you could always count on Bert.   In return she trusted everyone with a prairie honesty and trust that still meant something, and beneath all that was a loving mutual respect for everyone she encountered.  She'd give you all she had if you needed it more than she did, and would never ask for anything in return.

To all of you who consider yourself a friend of Bert's, Karen and I would like to thank you  for helping make her life full and complete.

To Bert, friends were friends forever, and none was more dear to her heart than her true love Tony.  They may have seemed an improbable match, but in reality they were a perfect one, and together they cared and shared with each other and gave of themselves to all who knew them.  Tony's passing affected Bert deeply, but she knew she still had so much more to give and live for. 

The greatest joy of Bert and Tony's life, Karen shared an amazing relationship with Bert a bond between mother and daughter that transcended friendship and family to a much higher plane, and I can see so much of Bert's wisdom and quiet influence in Karen and how she responds to life, in how she parents, and how she treats others.   A mother's lasting legacy lives on in her daughter, and Bert you did an amazing job.

One man though captured Bert's heart like none other, and he had her wrapped around his little finger from day one.  Bert loved Riley completely and truly, and lived to have him happy and smiling - I cannot begin to tell you how many hundreds of dozens of cookies and brownies and desserts she made for him over the years; the lengths she went to ensure he would always remember Tony, or the number of games she played with him regardless of her medical condition or level of fitness.  And in return he loved her fiercely and loyally and grew up guided by her love and support and her character.

The usual summer routine of Karen and Riley visiting and staying with Bert for a few weeks while Riley took swimming lessons, Riley helping Ba in the garden, his little boy voice still on her answering machine... Those days left a real impression on him and again, I can see alot of Bert in him too.

While going through things at the house, Karen and I found a letter written by Bert, for Riley, to be read when he turned 18 - one of those time capsule Letter to the Future things, and it seems appropriate to share with all of you today, in Bert's own words, her advice for Riley:

Dear Riley,

When your mother was born we thought it was the happiest day of our life, but when you were born we were even happier.  We love you dearly and will enjoy all the days we spend with you as you grow up.  The following is some words of wisdom given to me by my Aunt Gertrude on Sept 27, 1962 (I was 20 years old.)

"Use what talents you possess.  The woods would be a silent place if no birds sang there except those that sang the best.  Laugh and the whole world laughs with you.  In marriage it is not as important to marry the right person as to be the right partner."

I hope that you will be to your Dad and Mom what your mother is to us.  She was a joy to raise, was very considerate and loving and gave us many reasons to be proud of her.  Especially the good mother that she has been to you.

My advice to you Riley is the same as what I gave your mother: Do in life what you want to do.  Not what your parents or other people expect or want you to do, and you will always be happy.

Love Ba and Gigi

Friends and family.  They were the cornerstone of Bert's everyday life, and ensured that for her each day was beautiful.

On March 15th, 1942, Alberta Elaine Britcher was born and the world would become a better place.  On June 19th, 2013, Bert Bomak peacefully passed away, and the world will never be the same.

* * *

Rest in Peace Bert, Thanks for Everything.

Until the skies darken again

good days are easy,

unappreciated usually,

overlooked at best. 

until you need them,

then they are harder to pin down,

to find, to hold.

but if you let them

they can find you,

you just need to sit still

and let them approach you,

on their own,

like a timid small animal

alone.

make another cup of coffee

soothe the soul

and take it to the sunshine

and dewy grass

watch the world

exploring green shadows

listen to the birds

and the wind and the sounds of another

new summer starting

forget the grey and cloudy

skies behind you

for awhile

until the thunder

rumbling, rolling explodes with fury

rage on fire.

weather the storm

and contain the damage

keep the peace and stay the course

deluded reason and inward focus

cannot be subdued

drenched and shaking

the blood runs cold

and exhausted energy

soon lets go

giving way to lingering stillness

until the skies darken again

Renewal and Change: Time to tackle the crap

Somehow it became June.  Not that middle of June with the beginning intensity of summer that lasts until late September; this year early June is more like late May with fruit trees still in bloom, flowers finally daring to stand proudly in the gardens and the true feeling of the change of season turning the corner at last.

The greenhouses are doing brisk business these days as the winter-dwellers emerge to rediscover the outdoors and attempt to reclaim their mastery over the landscape. Trucks are busy delivering yards of black earth and soil and decorative bark and stone as yards begin their yearly transformation and the streets are lined on garbage day with paper bags full of the trimmings and prunings and remains of last year ready to be composted into next year.

The ceremony of renewal and change has begun.

It’s June and up here that means the final days of school are underway, exams and graduations and the cleaning up of another school year before the halls fall silent for a few months.  Stressful times for some – those ending this particular chapter of their lives and embarking on the next – and less so for others – those who have a few more years to go until they too wear the cap and gown and pretend they’re ready to take on the challenges of Life, though these years of high school present enough opportunities for drama and intrigue to fill an entire season of Hallmark after school specials.

We should know, but that’s a story (or a book) for another time…

Somehow April and May got away from us, well that’s not entirely true – it’s just that they were filled with circumstances and events that caused time and place to shift as required in order to achieve some semblance of balance and order – but now suddenly time has passed and we stand looking back as we catch our breath and realize nothing stands still ‘out there’ regardless of what’s happening ‘in here.’

I’ve been busy the last few days cleaning out the old garage and establishing a plan for the new one – figuring out where everything will go and how it needs to look in order to provide us with optimal storage and functionality going forward.  This has been in the works since the new addition was constructed and closed in – but it isn’t a process that can be rushed or quickly designed – at least not for me – there is an organic, natural way I inhabit a space that takes time to fully appreciate and understand exactly how I interact with it and how it needs to be for me to feel centered and at home in the space.  I require time to use it in its barest sense to get comfortable and familiar before making lasting change.  I suspect we all have this trait though many are more able to adapt freely to their environments than I, or they don’t have the luxury of time to sort such things out. 

The old garage has been my space since we moved in here back in ’95 and it has grown and changed in nature and purpose to suit our needs and my needs as I have changed and demanded more or less from it in exchange.  From simple storage and basic, crude workshop space with a handful of simple, cheap tools that managed to turn out the early storage cabinetry and carpentry skills for a young married couple finding their way as homeowners; to a more finely tuned and focused workspace with specialized, professional tools that allowed a business to grow and provide for a young family; and then to an injured, quieter, shadow of its former self, at the ready should it be called into service, but slowly hidden behind a veneer of bigger more pressing projects and demands, and requiring dedicated time and motivation to return it to a state of workability.

As I sifted through the shelves and cupboards and laid the contents out in the bigger, newer confines, I felt an inner rawness that comes with taking stock of what you have and really looking at it to assess its value and appropriateness for you and whether it will serve you moving forward, deciding if it should stay or if it’s time to say goodbye.

Stuff accumulates and gets piled up in corners and behind things without you realizing it, even though you see it every day.  Easier to keep it just because, than to have to take the time to really decide what it is and why you have it and what to do with whatever-it-is.  Easier to stay with the tried and true than the new and unknown.

But we need to make room for the new and improved while still carrying the old and trusted with us, though it requires patience and dedication to the task, and a careful, honest eye to accurately measure the needs and wants and balance them with the available size and space and time and energy.  You can’t do this for someone else – you can guide him or her and assist them and lend a hand, but they have to do the heavy lifting themselves.  They have to own the stuff in question or the real decisions can’t be made about what it means and what to do with it.  That can be a painful process.  Layers of dust and time settle on our stuff and our attachment to things can become tied to feelings over time instead of the concrete objectivity that once existed.

Ignoring the stuff might be easier in the short term – it doesn’t hurt if you don’t have to dig in and take stock, right?

Maybe.  For a little while, sure.  But not in the long term.  In order to free yourself from the disquieting chaos you’ve ignored in there over time, you have to finally decide to wade in and get real about things.  And that means you are going to get dusty and dirty and you will have to fully commit to creating a new dynamic with yourself.  You can’t just pull out all the stuff you have in that old garage and blow the dust off and tidy up the piles and set everything back up on shiny new shelves and trick yourself into feeling good about the exercise.  You haven’t really accomplished anything at that point – not if you are being honest with yourself. 

You’ve just rearranged your crap.

We all know what we need for our ‘crap.’ This isn’t news: a place for everything and everything in its place.  Pretty simple huh?  Yeah, but not so easy though, is it?  If you’re anything like me you have a decent sized pile of stuff laying around – stuff that still has value and is needed and used but that probably isn’t where it needs to be in order for you to feel productive and efficient with it.  Problem is you have to decide at some point what your stuff is and whether you really need it, and if you do, where to put it and how so you will know it’s there when you need it later.

And you probably don’t have places for all the stuff you think you want or need.

So you need to drag it all out, piece by piece, collect it all together so you can really see what you have.  You might be surprised what you’ve been collecting over the years and why. 

Why did I keep that old Planter’s Peanuts tin of used, bent nails that has always sat ontop of the tool cupboard in the corner behind the door?  Sure I appreciate the antique, blue tin, but why keep the useless nails inside it?  And what about the boxes of old light switches and receptacles from when we upgraded the electrical almost 20 years ago?  A broken drill?  Instructions and manuals for tools I’ve since replaced twice now?  And automotive light bulbs from which car now?  You don’t even remember what some of this stuff is or why you still have it…

So it’s time to move on.  Acknowledge it, appreciate that at one time you had need for it but now it doesn’t suit who you are and where you are going or what you are presently doing, and then let it go.  Garbage what needs throwing out, recycle what can be reused or repurposed – whatever you need to do to feel okay with getting rid of that past.

What you are left with after going through all your crap is what you really need and what really means something to you.  (Not what you thought you had or what you remembered you had.)  That in itself can be freeing.  We can attach some pretty deep emotions to our stuff – and it can prevent us from getting real about what things truly are and why we have them.  Yes, this old hand saw was my grandfather’s – they don’t make them like this anymore, and yes it is a connection to the past – but is it something I need in my life? Is the idea of the connection to the past what is important about this old rusty saw with its weathered wooden handle? Or is it an appreciation of the craftsmanship of the tool itself coupled with the connection to the past that keeps it on the pegboard along side newer models that I actually use? Occasionally use.  Okay, seldom use.

So it stays – but it doesn’t need to be easily accessible or take up valuable real estate in the new garage – it can be appreciated from a distance. Done. Next!

Now you need to figure out how to store it so you will see it and know what it is when you need it (if you need it but can’t find it, it doesn’t really help does it?)  I’ve purchased some wire racking that hangs from the ceiling above the overhead door – using those awkward, usually inaccessible spaces for your once-a-while stuff (like Christmas tree boxes and ornaments and lights etc) helps make the most of out whatever limited amount of space you have to store your stuff.  Oddly enough I had stacks of plywood and off-cut lengths of boards in the garage that could be repurposed as shelves and supports and bracing for shelves and supports.  You might need to go buy some – it’s worth your time to get exactly what you need and have it fit your space and your stuff.  Trust me.  There is nothing worse than a bastardized storage system that doesn’t really fit anything you own.  You’ll curse and swear at it every time you try to get something off the shelves or out of the too-small space or worse if you have to separate things to make them fit…

Plus it can be unsafe.

I relocated cupboards and custom built storage shelving from the old space into the new, needing to modify some to fit the new locations in order to allow the cars to fit in the garage alongside the ‘stuff’ and I took the time to paint the lower sections of shelving and cabinetry white to make it brighter and more easy to see where everything is.  Again, your stuff needs to be accessible to you when you need it.  Then I began the process of collecting the related items and putting them away in their places.  Trying my best to order and group them as I went along.

I’m guessing by now you can see why this process takes time, but also why you keep putting off doing it.  It isn’t easy.  I didn’t say it was.  It is necessary though if you want to get a handle on your crap; your stuff; your belongings and your ties to all of it. It’s an investment in you.  And that is important.

I’m not finished out there yet.  I don’t know if I will ever truly be finished organizing and storing my belongings to get them the way they need to be for me to feel like everything is finally in its place.

I think that’s the story of my life.  Probably of your life too if you stop and really think about it.  There are too few places where we feel like we belong in this world.  Where we know with absolute certainty that we are where we are supposed to be and doing what is really meaningful and important – to us and to those around us.  When you find one of those places, you need to stop and stay there awhile; take a good look around and touch the ground, the sky, the walls – feel it, know it, live it.  Become a part of that place, and make it yours.  Take it with you and keep it with you so you can fully be wherever it is you find yourself, knowing you are able to leave your mark along the way as you move through.  Even if its just for short periods of your spare time.

Maybe it’s your new garage – or your current one.  It might be your basement, or closet, or your desk or filing cabinet.  Pretty sure it’s your garden and flowerbeds and the front lawn.  And if you’re really being honest about it, it’s your life in general and the people you invite in and keep with you and those that somehow seem to find a way to stay in your life even though you know they shouldn’t be…

Chances are you have your share of pruning and weeding and cleaning up and dusting off to do too.  And you’ll soon have bags of last year’s debris on your curb, making room for next year’s too.  Renewal and change.

If you’ll excuse me, I know where I need to be right now.  You?