Grieving a Passage

I have been working on a post on lament for a while, but that will wait for another day. This is not a lament, it is grieving a passage.

I sat out on the deck this afternoon to eat my lunch. It was one of those perfect, but rare summer days in southern Saskatchewan when the breeze was light, the sun warm, but not too hot. Scattered clouds drifting by, rising and falling in a cotton-ball ballet…at least for those who slow down to watch.

In a few weeks, assuming our plans come to pass, we will have left our home in Caronport in southern Saskatchewan for the city of Edmonton. City life is not unfamiliar to us. After all, we spent over 18 years in the Vancouver area.

We are going to pastor a delightful church. It is what I have spent the last four years preparing to do. It is where our hearts are. It is what we are called too. We are anxious to be there. We want to be there. It is, however, at a cost.

I will miss the quietness of the open, uncluttered prairie. As I sit in my office, I have the same view as from my deck. It is peaceful…at least when the weather is like this.

I will miss the resident flock of chickadees that congregate at my bird feeder. They are an interesting group. When ever I fill the feeder, soon one will appear. Finding it full, it will fly up to a high perch and call relentlessly until the rest of the flock appears like a biker club riding into town.

Then there are the sparrows, swallows, finches, and redpolls. Of course I will miss working in my office to song of the meadowlark, the master of the prairie aria. 

I will not miss being so exposed to the winter blizzards or the vulnerability of living in a mobile home when the summer skies unleash their fury, lightning dancing from angry clouds, rain and hail…not to mention the threat of tornadoes. I have reminded my self often that this mobile home has seen far more prairie storms than I and it is still here. Oh yeah, I wouldn’t miss the mud and pot holes masquerading as craters.

I will miss seeing the Northern Lights from my bed room window, un-encumbered by city lights. I will miss the quiet. I will miss this place we have called home for four years.

Tomorrow is a new day, a new chapter. We will leave behind some memories best forgotten and hopefully take with us those we ought not forget. There are many precious memories too that I trust will live on in our kids long after we are gone. For now, we go to make new memories.

One thought on “Grieving a Passage

  1. Neil E. Dainio

    Biker Chickadees…LOL
    I can see it now…Tattoos, boots, wearing black, ect.

    Yes, Bill this place does grow on you.
    I have been thinking…
    Man next year may be my last year here.
    Just when it was really starting to feel like home.

    Bill and Sue I will miss you guys.
    To be honest, I have been avoiding you.
    Because, it hurts to much.
    But, we do have to connect one last time.
    Coffee?

    May the LORD our GOD and KING.
    Be with you and go forth before you.
    Stay Safe and Strong in God the Father, Christ the Son and The Holy Spirit.

    Jude 24-25

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