Thank you, Sister Eileen. RIP.

Not long ago, Sr. Eileen Foran sent me her final submission for our website blog.  It was short and inspiring, using an economy of words, as was her style.  At 96 and dealing with health issues, Sister knew her days were numbered.  However, she continued to send messages and phone calls to dear friends until shortly before her death.

Sister Eileen

When finally confined to her bed, Sister slept most of the time and put her COVID mask over her eyes for comfort. As I sat with her the night she peacefully died, I noticed the mask had been replaced by an attractive, black velvet mask bearing the eloquently written words, “Sleeping Beauty”. How apt it was for a loving, faith-filled, compassionate woman who died as had lived – beautiful and gentle to the end.

Thank you, dear Sister Eileen, for sharing your poetry and creative writing gifts on our website.

Rest in peace, dear Sleeping Beauty.

-Sister Jean Moylan, CSJ

Childhood Pastimes Revisited

Photo credit: Clément Fatize on Unsplash

Cleaning out my cloth carrying bag on the eve of my annual retreat I came across a small, wrinkled scrap of paper. The little note was almost completely covered with my scrawly handwriting. It was so tiny that it has stayed tucked, unnoticed at the bottom of the bag since the early days of the pandemic. Are you wondering what was written on it?

I need to offer a little background history before the reveal. My childhood friends and I used to employ our creative juices in creating imaginary book titles and their authors. One such title I recall was Cliff Life by Eileen Over. As childhood chums, we tried to outdo one another with our latest soon to be, “New Best Seller”.

Back to my paper find. I don’t actually recall when my list of imaginary titles and authors was composed. The titles suggest earlier rather than later in the pandemic timetable. Anyway, before I relegate my list to wastepaper basket in a spirit of lightheartedness, I share my pandemic titles.

Vaccines Distribution by Nee Del Sharp

Pandemic Price Gouging by Ethyl Alcohol

Unusual Symptoms of CCOVID by R. U. Well

As you enjoy summertime leisure perhaps my tale will activate your own creativity to try your own hand at creating relevant titles for future books.

Sister Nancy Wales, csj

Is This a New Moment for our Country?

It is only a few short days ago that the remains of 215 children were discovered on the grounds of a Residential school in Kamloops B.C and that a family of five out for a walk in London were intentionally run down by a speeding truck because they looked different. These are two instances that shook our country and so many of us have stopped to take a second look.  Many of us are asking what is our call right now?  How can we move with love and stand side by side with our dear neighbour in their suffering? 

I heard from a friend who shared a situation that happened to her and her father when they visited one of the Indigenous communities on Prince Edward Island.  There was a display set up in memory of the children and they wanted to go and pay their respects at the site.  There was an unexpected bonding that took place between her father who had been raised in an orphanage over 75 years ago and the woman they met whose father had been sent to a residential school on the Island at an early age.  It seemed that although their situations were different – they were the same.  Places of struggle and oppression where fear and mistrust of anyone in authority grew inside of these very young children which they still carry today.

As their conversation went on, the sharing of their stories became a healing moment of vulnerability as both parties realized that they – the white settler and the indigenous woman –had a commonality in each of their lives that they could name and claim in this moment as strangers.  Today, the display is to be taken down and my friend’s father has gone to assist with the task – certainly not something he would have ever dreamed of doing but now he has a new friend who is in need of assistance.  So easy when you think of it?  Neighbour helping neighbour. 

With Canada Day in a few short weeks, words from our National Anthem come to mind as I reflected on this dark moment in the history of our beloved country and our Province.

O Canada we stand on guard for thee. 

Is this our chance?  Could Canada Day 2021 be inviting each of us to create a new moment – where we can truly say together “we stand on guard as a Nation for you and you and you – and you are my sister and brother and we journey together for our children and our children’s children? 

-Sister Ann MacDonald, csj

Living in the In-Between Time

When I was asked to consider writing a blog from my own experience of living in this ‘in-between time’ I searched the dictionary for the definition of time and discovered words that reflected some of my lived experience during these past months.  

TIME:  the right moment; duration in which all things happen; precise instant that something happens.  

Of course, the daily challenge has been to stop, in the moment, to see what I am learning about the ‘in-between time’ and living that moment as best as I can. 

Moments come each day in our lives such as taking time to greet the cashier at the drug store rather than silently waiting to be checked out, or going over to the Community Centre on Thursdays when day-old bread is available for the residents to pick up and chatting about the weather or how their day is going, or standing on the front porch and chatting with Muriel as she walks her dog Murphy and we chat about all the plants that are coming to life. It seems that time is about presence and being present! 

We often hear and use phrases about time:  time off; time to work; time for holidays; time to go; time for ourselves and there are many more that can be added to this short list. This time of COVID, we have often heard that “we will never return to the way things were – there is something new happening – personally, and collectively – and this in-between time is re-shaping us, our neighborhoods, and the planet.   

I was struck recently when I re-read lines from the Poem – The Dash (by Linda Ellis, 1996), and I have selected a few lines to share. 

I read of a man who stood to speak

at the funeral of a friend 

he referred to the dates on the tombstone

from the beginning to the end. 

He noted that first came the date of birth. 

Then he said what mattered most of all was the dash between the years. 

For that dash represents all the time that was spent alive on earth… 

What matters is how we live and love and how we spend our dash. 

If we could just slow down enough to consider what is true and real 

And always try to understand the way other people feel. 

And love the people in our lives like we have never loved before. 

If we treat each other with respect and more often wear a smile. 

Remembering that this special dash might only last a little while. 

Would you be proud of the things they say about how you spent your dash?  

What has been your journey living the Dash during these months of COVID?   

-Sister Ann MacDonald, csj

Lift a glass to our Mothers…

This Sunday families gather, many virtually, to celebrate our Mothers.  We want to celebrate these wonderful women who gave us life, and whose lives were spent in selfless giving and loving.  What we might say today with our words is important but less important than what these woman have said with their lives.  Their actions show us what love really looks like.  Were they perfect?  No, they were not, but their responses to us, their children, created a tapestry of love full of meaning and memories that influence how we live today. 

“a tapestry of love full of meaning and memories that influence how we live today”

There is a song sung by the Wailin’ Jennys called the “Parting Glass”.  After my mother had died, my large family went back to mom’s home to be with each other.  As we so often did, we started to play music filled with memories and had a very strong sense of my mother’s spirit with each of us.  We started sharing stories of my mother and realised that those stories and memories will never leave us.  She is still with us.  So we asked my brothers and sisters who play musical instruments to play something to mom.  Then we found a bottle of wine and poured a wee bit of spirit in each glass and sung this song called the “Parting Glass”.   This might have been my mother's wish to each of her children. So whether our mothers are alive or gone, I ask you to lift a glass to your mothers and say thank you for so much.

-Sister Joan Atkinson, csj