Below is a letter that I wrote yesterday and sent to my dear friends on the west coast. I think it captures my state of mind very well, so I'm posting it.
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To my dear friends: Greetings from sunny, warm, and dusty Moose Jaw.
Spring arrived here 3 weeks ago, when within the span of a week, temperatures went from a snowy -15 to a sunny +15. Since then we've hit temperatures of 28C on a few occasions, causing the landscape to transform from a grey and white mix to a multi-shaded green. The snow has melted, the river swells are subsiding, and farmers have begun hauling out their massive machinery and preparing the fields for seeding and planting. There's lots of dust everywhere, not only leftovers from the dirty snow, but also from the surrounding farmlands. (Apparently early springs and late falls are dusty, caused by dust swirled up during planting/harvesting. The in-between time is clean and clear). We apparently had a longer than usual winter, and they're predicting a hotter (too bad not longer) summer as a result. I'm sitting in a coffee shop, as I usually do on Sunday mornings after church. I come here to reflect and to write, and of course, to drink good coffee. As I look out the window, I see that the streets are bustling with people, cars, and motorbikes. There's life. This is a scene that I did not see until the weather warmed up.
Adjustment to life in Saskatchewan has been varied.
In terms of work, I could not be happier. I feel valued, appreciated, affirmed, and of course, challenged. I have the privilege of journeying with (mostly) elderly men and women who are nearing the last days of their lives. There are some younger people at our facility too, as young as in their mid-30s, who through various reasons need care 24/7. Visiting with the younger folk presents a different challenge altogether: whereas elderly folks often times have dementia and are blissfully happy, younger people are in a full-fledged existential crisis, coming to terms with the reality that they will live in our facility for the rest of their lives.
Spring arrived here 3 weeks ago, when within the span of a week, temperatures went from a snowy -15 to a sunny +15. Since then we've hit temperatures of 28C on a few occasions, causing the landscape to transform from a grey and white mix to a multi-shaded green. The snow has melted, the river swells are subsiding, and farmers have begun hauling out their massive machinery and preparing the fields for seeding and planting. There's lots of dust everywhere, not only leftovers from the dirty snow, but also from the surrounding farmlands. (Apparently early springs and late falls are dusty, caused by dust swirled up during planting/harvesting. The in-between time is clean and clear). We apparently had a longer than usual winter, and they're predicting a hotter (too bad not longer) summer as a result. I'm sitting in a coffee shop, as I usually do on Sunday mornings after church. I come here to reflect and to write, and of course, to drink good coffee. As I look out the window, I see that the streets are bustling with people, cars, and motorbikes. There's life. This is a scene that I did not see until the weather warmed up.
Adjustment to life in Saskatchewan has been varied.
In terms of work, I could not be happier. I feel valued, appreciated, affirmed, and of course, challenged. I have the privilege of journeying with (mostly) elderly men and women who are nearing the last days of their lives. There are some younger people at our facility too, as young as in their mid-30s, who through various reasons need care 24/7. Visiting with the younger folk presents a different challenge altogether: whereas elderly folks often times have dementia and are blissfully happy, younger people are in a full-fledged existential crisis, coming to terms with the reality that they will live in our facility for the rest of their lives.
On a personal level things have been very different. Extremely difficult. Moving here has, for various reasons, marked a massive low-point in my life. Only once previously in my life have I experienced such dark, intense, and excruciating loneliness and desolation. In that sense, the bitter cold temperatures outside mirrored the landscape of my heart. However, I'm thankful, because Wings of Love carried me to this point and place, and these same Wings will always be Present and carry me forward. Spring is here. Hope is ever-present.
I joined an outdoor co-ed soccer team. Our team's not very good: we lost the first game 9-2, and our second one 6-3. If this trend continues, we should be able to tie a game by game 4, and by game 5 we might win a game. Problem is, there are only 4 teams in the league, so we play the same opponents over and over again all summer long. Playing on the team is fun, even though my lungs have reminded me that it has been a while since hiking the Grouse Grind. Most of my teammates are university-aged students, with two-tracked minds: drinking excessively and love conquests. They talk about these topics with great enthusiasm, even a sense of accomplishment.
I also joined a community garden club. There have been sufficient warm temperature days now (combined with freeze-free nights) to warrant planting. The ground is dark, rich, warm and fertile. Tomorrow (holiday) I plan to plant potatoes, onions, zucchini, peas, beans, and tomatoes. I see some great focaccia bread sandwiches coming my way later in the summer. Problem is, I have yet to find a place that sells focaccia bread here. I live in a white-bread-only city... I will also plant watermelons. They should be ripe by the end of summer, in case any of you would like to drop in for a late summer watermelon feast.
Finally, I also joined a painting class: oil, on canvas. My first painting will be a prairie scene, a present for my dad on father's day. My second painting will be a path, surrounded by a forest. I'd like to say that there is a deep meaning for the second painting, but the simple truth is that I like paths, I like walking/hiking, and trees are easy to paint. :)
I joined an outdoor co-ed soccer team. Our team's not very good: we lost the first game 9-2, and our second one 6-3. If this trend continues, we should be able to tie a game by game 4, and by game 5 we might win a game. Problem is, there are only 4 teams in the league, so we play the same opponents over and over again all summer long. Playing on the team is fun, even though my lungs have reminded me that it has been a while since hiking the Grouse Grind. Most of my teammates are university-aged students, with two-tracked minds: drinking excessively and love conquests. They talk about these topics with great enthusiasm, even a sense of accomplishment.
I also joined a community garden club. There have been sufficient warm temperature days now (combined with freeze-free nights) to warrant planting. The ground is dark, rich, warm and fertile. Tomorrow (holiday) I plan to plant potatoes, onions, zucchini, peas, beans, and tomatoes. I see some great focaccia bread sandwiches coming my way later in the summer. Problem is, I have yet to find a place that sells focaccia bread here. I live in a white-bread-only city... I will also plant watermelons. They should be ripe by the end of summer, in case any of you would like to drop in for a late summer watermelon feast.
Finally, I also joined a painting class: oil, on canvas. My first painting will be a prairie scene, a present for my dad on father's day. My second painting will be a path, surrounded by a forest. I'd like to say that there is a deep meaning for the second painting, but the simple truth is that I like paths, I like walking/hiking, and trees are easy to paint. :)
A few weeks ago I met some guys who love board games. Two of them love Settlers, one loves Ticket to Ride (he has 200+ board games in his home!), and one loves Carcassone. Sadly, none of them know Rook. I foresee some board game nights in the future, accompanied by wine and heavy theological discussions (a perfect mix).
I go to Regina about once a week, which, compared to Moose Jaw, is certainly a large city. I go there mainly to eat good restaurant food and to buy things I can't buy here. The German Club there serves schnitzel that is as good as the schnitzel at Katzenjammer on West 10th. The Indian food there's good, too, but let's not kid ourselves, it's no match for Al Watan. Sadly, there is no Spanish or Mexican restaurant nearby.
Yesterday I went on a day trip to the Badlands (south-central Saskatchewan), a 2 hour drive. There are some very beautiful rock formations there that are remnants of the last ice age. It was a great trip that included a 7-km walk on a lovely warm day. After returning home I worked on my 1000-piece puzzle, an activity I'm discovering is as therapeutic as ironing clothes or washing dishes.
I go to Regina about once a week, which, compared to Moose Jaw, is certainly a large city. I go there mainly to eat good restaurant food and to buy things I can't buy here. The German Club there serves schnitzel that is as good as the schnitzel at Katzenjammer on West 10th. The Indian food there's good, too, but let's not kid ourselves, it's no match for Al Watan. Sadly, there is no Spanish or Mexican restaurant nearby.
Yesterday I went on a day trip to the Badlands (south-central Saskatchewan), a 2 hour drive. There are some very beautiful rock formations there that are remnants of the last ice age. It was a great trip that included a 7-km walk on a lovely warm day. After returning home I worked on my 1000-piece puzzle, an activity I'm discovering is as therapeutic as ironing clothes or washing dishes.
I hope you're all doing well. I carry you all in my heart. Grace and Peace to all, always.
Edgar
Edgar
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