Faye's Feedback

 My Aunt Dorothy Derksen died recently, and her funeral was at Chapel Lawn here in Winnipeg on Nov. 4th. That is the same cemetery where my husband was buried, eight months ago. My drive past his grave to the chapel set off a tsunami of grief, and the celebration of Dorothy's life was indeed emotional for me. My aunt was very supportive of my marriage to Darrell, and she was a source of encouragement during our almost 16 year marriage. At her service, Dorothy's story was told, which reminded me of a story she had told me long ago. In 1971, despite some major health issues, Dorothy found herself pregnant with her third child. Her doctor recommended an abortion at that time, to lessen the risk to her own life. She and my uncle George thought about it, but she had a dream, where she saw God holding an infant above some turbulent waters, in which bobbed the bodies of hundreds and thousands of dead babies. She felt that the dream was from God, and it helped her make the final decisi...

 Today was the six month date since the death of my beloved husband Darrell. I thought it might be quite an ordinary, sad day, but I was definitely mistaken. My daughter was working late, so I was looking after my grandchildren, and we did an errand to help my son. On the way home we were going to stop and I would treat them to an ice cream. My granddaughter chose Dairy Queen, and I thought it interesting, as that had been the location of happy memories with Darrell when we first discussed marriage. As we arrived at the store, rain started, and there were a few warning "pings" of hail on my windshield. We parked at the Dairy Queen just in time, and got inside the door as rain and hail started. The store has large windows on two sides, so we were able to observe the storm from different angles - close up and feeling very vulnerable. It was like a hurricane, throwing leaves, branches and loose things through the air. The rain was very heavy and the hail was up to the size of a ...

  Today I am proud of myself for figuring out how to reprogram my garage door opener. I tried following the instructions on the garage's overhead machine, with no success, so I tried "googling" it, and found my solution lickety split! That is what Darrell would always do. If he didn't know how to fix something, he looked it up on Google and was always able to fix anything. He was a smart guy! It's a good thing that I was able to reprogram the door, so that I could go out to celebrate what would have been our 16th wedding anniversary. I had a delicious dinner at The Keg on the patio, where we had gone for our 15th anniversary and then spent the night at the Hotel Fort Garry. I almost made it through the meal without weeping, but at the end got sincere sympathy from my sweet waitress. Thank you to so many people who still pray for me. I ran into an old friend on the Gateway bike path and was amazed to hear how she still prays for me. It keeps me going, and I am grat...

 Day 32 of my Griefshare emails said, "You Can't Stay Here." It refers to the fact that one can't stay wallowing in grief, but must move forward in life.  Philippians 3:14 says, "the upward call of God in Christ Jesus." That is who I depend upon day by day. So I am moving forward. I enjoy my job with Steve Bell's ministry, so that's a given. I have also been asked to take a part in a Mennonite Theatre play called "Wherever You May Be," which will be shown in July in Steinbach, and then again in Winnipeg in the fall. I will be sure to notify anyone interested. When my husband died, I had just completed the first phase of my autobiography, which would never have been done without the online seminar with Wilma Derksen, which is available on her website, wilmaderksen.com. I am continuing a second version of the autobiography to include many of my paintings, telling my life story illustrated by my art. I am also painting a bit - one painting you...

 I do not like to visit graves, but Father's Day 2023 was a different occasion. I went to Wern Kliewer's grave first, as he was the father of my children, and grandfather to my precious grandchildren. It has been 21 years since his death. Then I went to The Forks for a lunch experience that Darrell and I had frequently enjoyed together. We loved to order from Fergie's Fish & Chips, and then eat our food on the outside tables, enjoying the view of the dock and river. This chosen day was perfect weather for this. It is important for me to do things that Darrell and I used to enjoy together. Next was my first visit to Darrell's grave. What an emotional moment. Last time I was there was for the burial, in a foot of snow. Now it is green and lush, and his marker is in place. Many others were visiting graves of the husbands, fathers and grandfathers in their lives. I was blessed to be loved by two wonderful men, in two very different marriages. Now the marriages are over....

 The Teardrop... I recently returned from a rejuvenating trip to Vancouver and Victoria, BC with my sister June and her husband Karl. We had originally arranged this trip to include my husband Darrell. Now it was just me. It turned into a time for reminiscing, grief, good times, adventure and even fun. Occasionally, the good times made me feel a little guilty, but the surprise of joy is a good sign of hope. Darrell had travelled often with all of us, and I missed him so much. We visited a local art gallery in Victoria, which featured glass raindrops in the window, and they reminded me of my tears. So I brought one home and hung it in my front window to remind me of my tears for my darling husband. Darrell's family has an Irish background, and one of the stores we stopped at had an Irish theme. I searched for a magnet, key chain or something that might have the Hall name on it, and couldn't find anything. This somehow upset me, and I had to leave the store in tears.  I also bou...

Darrell's youngest son and I pulled the beloved BMW convertible out of storage for the summer. It was housed in a barn near Teulon, owned by a friend of his who had once been his apprentice at Winnipeg Volvo. A river of happy memories and tears followed. Now Justin will enjoy the car with his little family. Darrell loved his beautiful little car! We spent so many happy hours driving on sunny Manitoba days with the top down, going to parks, getting ice cream or going to the beach. He loved so many cars. Whenever we were driving, he was bound to point out a car and say "I had one of those!" We went to many car shows as well, and he always dreamed of owning a hotrod that he could fix up and drive around the city. One thing that I learned in my grief class is that grief is like a pandora's box . You can lift the lid when you are ready for it. Lift the lid as often as you feel you can handle. Seeing the beloved convertible that Darrell and I enjoyed was one of those "...

 I had my first encounter with a coyote the other day, while on my early morning walk. I use walking sticks for the purpose of both support and protection on these solitary occasions. When I saw the coyote, I decided to turn around and head home, but he started to follow me. My only solution was to confront him and scare him away. The sticks were handy to raise and wave around, and when I banged them together, he turned and ran in the opposite direction. Grief is a predator, just like a coyote. You never know when you will encounter him following you and giving you a scare. I went for several days feeling much better, and then went to a memorial for a dear friend, Byron O'Donnell. The inspiring music at the memorial reminded me so much of both Darrell and Byron, I found myself in tears once again. The date turned out to be exactly two months since my husband's death date. I never know what reminder will set me off in tears, but what I do know is that it is something that I will...

 Grief sucks, bigtime. You can't just ignore it. You can't count on others to support you all of the time and answer your needs. It takes a lot of work. As a semi-retired person, I sure don't want more work. Two days a week at the office is enough for me. But after a month and a half since my husband's death, the "busy" things are nearly done, and real life is sinking in. The funeral is done. Business and financial aspects are looked after. I have done a lot of cleaning, sorting and removal of his clothes and old things.  Now I am entering the stage of depression. When I am with other people it is okay to be a bit sad, but others expect me to be more normal and cheery. Others don't want to hear the death story anymore, and don't want to listen to how much I miss the man that I loved. Thankfully, I am blessed that not everyone is this way. The cheery person at the cash register asks me, "How is your day going?" I refrain from saying, "I a...

I once suggested to my mother that I might like to become a nurse. Her immediate response was, "over my dead body!" My mother, Helen Goertzen had been an LPN most of her life, beginning before my sister and I were born. We moved from Ontario to Manitoba in 1967, and it took a few years before she could update her nursing to Manitoba requirements. My dad had a heart condition for 25 years, so she was the main breadwinner for our household until she retired at age 65. She worked extremely hard as a nurse, and had no wish for that life on either of her daughters. But I took on the role of nurse for a month. I managed appointments, phone calls, pills, meals, house cleaning and made my darling husband as comfortable as possible for the 34 days from diagnosis until his death. Since losing my first husband at age 45, I was always a wee bit paranoid about losing my second husband. If he was out in the garage too long, I would occasionally check on him. If he slept in, I would peek in...

 Dealing with Death and Cancer I have always found it difficult to deal with people I love and cancer. Should I visit? Is it too much for them? Do I contact them? It's downright uncomfortable. Now I am in the midst of something I have always dreaded...having a loved one with cancer. It is okay if you are uncomfortable. It is okay if you are uncertain. Cancer is scary. I had a dear friend whose young son had cancer and eventually died. It was a devastating event. I communicated from the fringe, but I prayed for her and the family. That is the most important thing. There are so many different people, cancers and scenarios. People deal with it differently. But if you are a believer in God and His son Jesus, it can be very different. There is hope. You pray for healing, and if it turns out not to be God's will, prayer can help to buoy you in all circumstances. I found this out when my first husband Wern died suddenly in 2002. Months after Wern's death, I ran into some aquaintan...

 Waiting through the pain... On January 18th I began part two of my writing course with Wilma Derksen. A lovely one morning a week zoom call with many aspiring writers across North America and even Mexico. Wilma leads us with discussion and presents a powerpoint presentation. At the end, she gives us assignments to work on, and we turn those in at the end of the week. A deadline is helpful in avoiding procrastination in a writing project. I was able to get most of my first draft of my autobiography done in the first 8 week course. A miracle! My instructor Wilma lost her husband Cliff to gall bladder cancer in May of 2022. I emailed her recently to let her know that we just found out that my own husband Darrell has stage 4 pancreatic cancer. It is so similar to her own story. Due to loss of nurses at the St. Boniface Hospital, my husband spent four nights in cramped quarters in the emergency ward. He slept on a narrow stretcher with a bright fluorescent light on the ceiling above hi...

Sixty-five years of life is the line that was just crossed when my mother retired from nursing and my father died. We bought a huge cake shaped like a nurse to celebrate her grand career, and put part of it in the freezer to eat another day. A few months passed, and then my dad was due for a quadruple by-pass surgery at the St. Boniface Hospital here in Winnipeg. I remember the night before the surgery, he didn't want to see me, as it would be too emotional for him. He said last words to my mother. Then the next morning we got a call and saw him for the last time in post-surgery. He was drowning in his own blood that wouldn't clot. In the following years, I moved my mom to a new apartment, and started a long process of surgeries, cancer, and the eventual take-over of dementia. I just turned sixty-five. The passage of that year does not mean that it's the beginning of the end of my life, but it does make me think. I plan to finish my autobiography soon, for my children to ha...