Chautauqua: Heaven

My friend Carolyn told me a story about how she and her young family had to move away from a place they loved. While the move brought new friends into their lives, if they could do it all over again, she says they wouldn't have moved. Carolyn thinks we're lucky that we found out in time...that we discovered the stars weren't all aligned before it was too late.

Carolyn is wise in many things. I think she's right. We're not moving to California. Yet. Though I would feel better if it were a "Whew! We're staying!" kind of thing. But instead we're back to not knowing if/when we're moving. Ah well. We're happy and together and, really, that's all that matters.

I find myself feeling tremendous relief and contentment just getting back to regular life. It feels like a blessing to weed the garden or go for a walk, now that the millions of details involved in a move are suddenly unnecessary. And to top it all, I'm taking a vacation from work. So I have the space and time to let it all sink in.

I talked to Dad today. His cancer is progressing and now they are trying radiation. He starts that tomorrow. One of the hardest things about not moving was telling Dad that we wouldn't be there as planned. I know it tore him up. But he has been so kind and strong and supportive to us throughout this tough period in our lives. And considering what he's going through, I find that heroic. So today, instead of dwelling on cancer and loss, we talked about Canada.

My Dad's side of the family - the Duncan's - are from Quebec. My great grandmother was a second-generation Irish immigrant. Her family emigrated to escape the potato famine. She married my great grandfather - a Quebecois. Unfortunately I know nothing about him (he died when Dad was 4 or 5 years old). But they had 8 children. My grandfather, John Duncan, was one. My great grandparents raised their brood on a farm in St-Malachie, Quebec. My Dad says it was a hard life and the farm was too rocky but somehow they made do. He said his grandmother was strong and an incredibly hard worker. He described how when the community joined together to do a barn-raising on the farm, it fell to her to cook for 2o0 people.

And we think our lives are hard?

My Dad told me that his grandmother would not allow French to be spoken at home on the farm, though they all spoke it out in the world and to the tradesmen that came and went on the farm. The way Dad put it, his grandmother was adamant. They were Irish and therefore English speakers, so no French in the house! Wow.

I wish I knew more, but that's all Dad remembers.

It makes me feel grateful that I'm writing this blog. It will be a record, a way to look back in time, for me, for the kids and for all of you...so we won't forget. Because it's all so important. It's all so fleeting. And so beautiful.

It gets back to that thing Jesus said about how heaven is all around us but we don't see it.

"The Kingdom of Heaven is like yeast used by a woman making bread. Even though she used a large amount of flour, the yeast permeated every part of the dough." - Matthew 13

So I guess it's our job to find the heaven amidst all the uproar and pain of daily life - because it's there all the time.

In Drew's eyes...