I'LL MISS YOU CONNIE - LOVE ALWAYS

          I wasn't going to write a Blog today because I'm still very busy constructing a barn and also have a terribly messy kitchen to clean up if I want to open the coffee shop tomorrow morning - I swear I don't know how Sarah gets her baking done in such a clutter - the kitchen table must be somewhere in the house because I can remember having supper there about 2 weeks ago, or was it longer?  Although a lot of work is waiting for me while I sit here sipping a hot mug of goldenrod tea and typing at the computer, my mind is elsewhere; actually I'm feeling quite sad. Last night, after just having a very hot bath to soothe my aching muscles and joints and had barely crawled into bed, I received a phone call from my sister Fern.  I knew our sister Connie hadn't been feeling that well since her husband died a little over 2 months ago and she had been fighting cancer for quite some time.  However, being a somewhat quiet woman of few words and most likely not wanting anyone to be overly concerned about her poor health and my seldom being in touch except by the occasional email, Fern told me Connie had passed away.  Even before she uttered the words, since she and Connie have always been very close, closer than icing on a cake, I sensed the hesitation and sadness in the tone of her voice and that the news I was about to hear was going to be terrible.
          When I was just a boy about to start my first year of school, I moved in with my dad and my new step mother who had two little girls so I basically grew up with them even though I had another mother, half sister and half brother living in a different city.  Forgetting the complications of everyone having different last names, I can still remember playing with my two new sisters, hop-scotch, skipping, colouring and all manner of other things.  One of the traits I've always admired about Connie as the years went by, since she was a "lefty"and had problems writing with a straight pen and ink in the early grades and had started school about six months too soon, her birthday being January 6th, was that she tried very hard to learn and make a success out of her life.  Unlike me, who's passing grades were easyily attained at the beginning and I failed Grade 12 at the end; she graduated.
       I'd like to share my sister Connie's last email with anyone and especiall family who is reading this Blog.  Although she herself was dying, she doesn't mention anything like that to me.  I knew that she had been fighting cancer for sometime and the last time I talked to her, she sounded very nonchalant about it, as if it was just a little bump in the road, so I didn't think too much about it.  However, that being said, not that long ago, Fern told me she had aged a great deal and that I probably wouldn't recognize her if I saw her.

Len & Sarah:

Just a quick note to let you know that Erwin (husband) passed away this morning at 4:00 am.April10th.  He was sick for quite awhile so it was sort of expected.  But when it happens it is still a big shock.  Michelle (daughter) and I spent the night in his room so we were with him when he passed. He went very peacefully.  I got up to go to the washroom at 3:45 am checked him and he was breathing very shallow but okay and then at 4:00 the nurse checked him and he was gone.  He had a 2year 4 month struggle.  He is in a better place now.  My family has been great I have had a lot of support.  I will talk to you soon.

Love Connie

          At this age, with age 70 about to hit me square in the face like a custard pie within a few months, realizing my siblings and I are at that age where our lives could end at any time, it was "still a big shock" to learn of Connie's passing.  Although Fern and I talked on the phone for quite some time, instead of the word "he" she said the identical same words as Connie, "She is in a better place now."  And I know like Erwin, her "family has been great" and she has "had a lot of support."  I guess the line that haunts and hurts me the most is the last one, "I will talk to you soon."  because we never did talk to one another and now we never will.  It's not like we would have said a last good-bye or there was anything very important that would have been said, it's just that I will never hear her voice, see her smile or hear her laughter again.  In the sense that I will never see her again is most likely best because I will always remember her as she was, not when she was ravaged by some cruel disease that just ate away at her until her last bit of strength was gone.
          Fern also told me, which really threw this old man a loop, was that she and Connie had been making me something special as a gift for my 70th birthday.  It was supposed to be a surprise but because Connie wasn't able to finish her part, she will be sending it very soon.  Like I told my sister, it will be a "bitter/sweet" present.  I have no idea what they are giving me but whatever it is, will be deeply cherished.  It's odd, but all of my earlier younger life growing up with my mom, dad, Fern and Connie seems to have vanished in a sense because I don't have one photo of that time period; it seems that all the pictures that I glued in an old photograph album over the years must have disappeared during one of my many moves or break-ups.  However, thankfully, perhaps it's the artist within me, I have taken many photos in my mind's eye and am able to transport myself back to a past moment, so all is not lost.  And that is where I am at this moment, I'm at 743 Belair Drive in Richmond, BC and Connie is smiling and laying on a blanket in the back yard wearing a pair of shorts and blouse, her blonde hair shining in the sunlight.  She didn't want me to take a photo of her but I did!  I miss and love you Connie and who knows, perhaps one day soon, we will talk.