Wednesday, December 28, 2022

My year in books - 2022

 

It's time for my annual "books I read this year" list.

In previous years I've tried to break my list up into various genre categories, but this time I'm just going with plain old Nonfiction (20 books) and Fiction (7 books), alphabetical by author in each category.

I hope my list gives you some ideas for books to read in 2023.

 

NONFICTION

Son of Elsewhere: a Memoir in Pieces - Elamin Abdelmahmoud.
I absolutely loved this book by the Toronto writer/podcaster and former Queen's student.
Abdelmahmoud writes with humour, humility, and grace about his experiences as a 12-year-old immigrant from Sudan to Kingston, Ontario and the struggle to fit into a new place where he was instantly defined as Black, an identity that was completely new to him. The author explores his youthful and adult passions such as wrestling, country music, highways, TV shows, and radio -- always making a connection to that concept of "elsewhere," that pull between the "once-home" and the "new home." A beautiful book.
(I also had the opportunity to hear Abdelmahmoud speak at an event put on by Kingston ArtsFest this past spring, just after I'd read the book; that was a real treat.)

No Cure For Being Human (And Other Truths I Need To Hear) - Kate Bowler.
In this follow-up to Everything Happens for a Reason (And Other Lies I've Loved), Bowler talks about her colon cancer diagnosis and subsequent treatment and reflects on how our culture of relentless positivity tries to tell us we have unlimited choices and the best is just out there waiting for us. She reminds us that acknowledging our limitations and our fragile humanity is the most truthful way to live. I really enjoy Bowler's frank, funny style -- she can have you laughing one moment and tearing up the next.

Good Enough: 40ish Devotionals for a Life of Imperfection - Kate Bowler and Jessica Richie.
I keep this book at my bedside and enjoy dipping into the short chapters about hope, disappointment, exhaustion, the in-between, and more. Each contains a brief reflection, a prayer, and a practice to help readers let go of unrealistic, guilt-producing expectations (of themselves and others) and accept the gift of being an ordinary, imperfect person.

Bittersweet: How Sorrow and Longing Make Us Whole - Susan Cain.
Cain is the author of Quiet, the best-selling book on introversion. In this one she talks about how some people are naturally drawn to sadness and longing and how an acknowledgement of these feelings -- rather than just relentless positivity -- is essential to personal growth and stronger relationships. She talks about the importance of grieving well, the role of sadness and longing in creativity, and the need to acknowledge impermanence, among other things. Excellent book.

The Whole Language: The Power of Extravagant Tenderness - Fr. Greg Boyle.
As in his previous books Tattoos on the Heart and Barking to the Choir, Father Boyle shares moving and humorous stories about the gang members he works with at Homeboy Industries in Los Angeles, showing how learning to be tender with ourselves and others is life-changing. His books are such a gift.

Atlas of the Heart - Brene Brown.
I have read all of Brene Brown's books (most of which address vulnerability and shame in various contexts), and this is one I think I'll be returning to over and over again to study and absorb. It's essentially a map of emotions and emotion-related thoughts, clustered according to different situations or needs. For example, Ch. 1 is called "Places We Go When Things Are Uncertain or Too Much" and talks about stress, anxiety, worry, avoidance, etc. Ch. 2, "Places We Go When We Compare," addresses resentment, jealousy, schadenfreude, and other emotions. And so on. Very interesting and insightful.

A Mind Spread Out on the Ground - Alicia Elliott.
Another excellent memoir in essays. Elliott was born into a racially mixed family (white Catholic mother and Indigenous father) and this reality shapes how she explores topics like depression, poverty, racism in the legal system, representation of Indigenous people in Canadian writing, and more.

The Sacred Pulse: Holy Rhythms for Overwhelmed Souls - April Fiet.
I had the honour of being an early reader for April's book, and it's lovely. She talks about the need for "holy rhythms" to guide our days, using everyday subjects like gardening, handcrafts, cooking, raising chickens, etc. to invite us to become more present and in tune with the "kairos time" of God.

Once More We Saw Stars: A Memoir - Jayson Greene.
This is a very sad, beautiful memoir by the father of a two-year-old girl who died when a brick fell from a building onto the bench where she was sitting with her grandmother. It sounds horrible and obviously it is, but it's also very life-affirming.

Best Wishes, Warmest Regards: The Story of Schitts Creek - Daniel Levy and Eugene Levy.
I watched all six seasons of Schitts Creek a year or so ago, and Richard gave me this companion book last Christmas. It was a lot of fun to read, containing interviews with the cast, descriptions of the characters and episodes, and tons of photos and fan art.

Wintering: The Power of Rest and Retreat in Difficult Times - Katherine May.
In 
this engaging book, May weaves stories and lore about winter with her own experiences, showing the importance of stepping into what winter has to offer and embracing the natural, seasonal cycles."Life meanders like a path through the woods. We have seasons when we flourish and seasons when the leaves fall from us, revealing our bare bones. Given time, they grow again."

Attached to God: A Practical Guide to Deeper Spiritual Experience - Krispin Mayfield.
This book by a therapist explores the different attachment styles people have -- anxious, shutdown, and shame-filled attachment -- and how each one can affect their relationships with other people as well as with God. In all three cases a lack of trust, sometimes resulting from hurtful experiences in childhood and/or Christian community, can prevent us from experiencing God in the way we long to. Then Mayfield goes beyond simply telling us about how attachment theories work to addressing how we can move from anxiety to rest, from shutdown to engaged, and from shame to delight in our relationship with God. So good.

An Exact Replica of a Figment of My Imagination: A Memoir - Elizabeth McCracken.
This is a powerful memoir about stillbirth. McCracken, an American, was living and writing in France while she and her husband awaited the birth of their first child; at nine months they discovered the baby had died. McCracken is a brilliant writer, interweaving details about that ill-fated delivery with those of her second pregnancy, so that she moves readers simultaneously toward the devastating events of her loss and toward the joy she and her husband have with their living child.

Do I Stay Christian? A Guide for the Doubters, the Disappointed, and the Disillusioned - Brian McLaren.
I had only read one other book by McLaren -- A New Kind of Christian -- and that was a number of years ago, so I thought it was time to remedy that. Part I of this book addresses the reasons a person might want to leave the fold of Christianity; Part II addresses the reasons they might want to remain. Then in Part III he discusses some practices and principles which will help us become better people no matter which decision we make, such as becoming more in tune with the earth, committing ourselves to the pursuit of reality, etc. Lots to think about here; I'd highly recommend this.

When We Belong: Reclaiming Christianity on the Margins - Rohadi Nagassar.
Nagassar, a Calgary writer, church planter, and organizer, has written a very interesting and challenging book about deconstructing and decolonizing Christianity. He talks about various barriers to true belonging in society and the church and how racism and white supremacy must be identified and addressed for true liberation to occur. "
Institutions are not designed to change; they're fundamentally designed to keep things the same, a posture that comes at the cost of further marginalizing those who have faced abuse and seek justice."

Unprotected: A Memoir - Billy Porter.
I thoroughly enjoyed this inspiring memoir by actor/dancer/singer Porter, whose writing is bigger than life, just like his public and onstage personality. (You may be familiar with his iconic appearance in a black tuxedo gown at the 2019 Oscars.) As a boy, Porter experienced sexual abuse and was rejected by his beloved church for being gay. He writes about how his voice and other gifts took him places he would never have imagined, yet he still had to deal with the trauma of his past in order to truly thrive and love himself.

Big Friendship: How We Keep Each Other Close - Aminatou Sow and Ann Friedman.
These co-authors were close friends for many years -- and even started a podcast about women's friendships -- yet they had to acknowledge they were not well prepared when conflicts about racial insensitivity, life changes, and geographical distance strained their relationship. Their belief that their friendship was "too big to fail," combined with how public that friendship was, hindered resolution at first. But the investment they made in the relationship, including seeking a counselor's help, led to a stronger, more intentional bond. This book definitely struck a nerve for me; I read it with a combination of admiration and wistfulness.

The Journey to Wholeness: Enneagram Wisdom for Stress, Balance, and Transformation - Suzanne Stabile.
In this book, Stabile -- whose book The Path Between Us I've also read -- goes in-depth into two main categorizations of the Enneagram, the Triads (Heart, Head, Gut) and the Stances (Withdrawing, Aggressive, and Dependent), in order to help us find balance in stressful "liminal" times. I love the clarity and practicality of Stabile's approach to the Enneagram.

Coming Home: A Spiritual Memoir - Lori Vos.
The author, whom I've known for over 35 years, blends narrative, short essays, and poetry as she recounts her upbringing by abusive parents and her journey to healing and freedom from her past. This was a challenging book because of some of its subject matter and other aspects, but it was an important book for me to read this year, and I'm glad the writer has found peace.

Why Poetry? - Matthew Zapruder.
Zapruder argues that people are intimidated by and resistant to poetry because they've been wrongly taught that poems are deliberately obscure, with meanings that hide behind the words on the page. He looks at poetry more as a way for both poet and reader to make imaginative associations; experiencing poetry is an attitude or state of mind rather than the cracking of a code. I loved this line about the "usefulness" of poetry: "The role of poetry in our time of crisis is the same as always: to preserve our minds and language, so we may be strong for whatever is to come."

 

FICTION

Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell - Susanna Clarke.
This 1,000-page novel of magical realism is about two 19th-century magicians who are at times allies and rivals in their quest to bring back "practical magic" to England. I first watched a seven-part BBC miniseries based on this book and loved it – and in fact when reading the book I found it quite advantageous to have watched the show first. The book is definitely a commitment but very enjoyable.

One Night Two Souls Went Walking - Ellen Cooney.
I really liked this quiet novel about the experiences of a chaplain during one night at her job at a hospital, as she interacts with various patients and ponders questions of the soul, life, and death. I had to keep reminding myself this was not a memoir because it reads so much like one.

Wives and Daughters - Elizabeth Gaskell.
"Mrs. Gaskell" was a contemporary of the Brontë sisters. This novel is one of her best known, about the remarriage of a widowed doctor and the relationships between his own daughter and his new wife and her daughter. I watched a BBC miniseries based on the book and thoroughly enjoyed that, so I decided to read the novel -- but what I didn't know was that the book was not finished before Gaskell's death. You get to the end where everything should be tied up and it just ... stops! It's a delightful book, but if you read it, be prepared for it to be inconclusive (and watch the TV series if you want a satisfying wrap-up).

Firefly Lane - Kristin Hannah.
A friend recommended this novel to me. It's about the 30-year friendship between two women who first meet as kids living across the street from one another: one flamboyant and from a troubled home, one more reserved and from a stable background. It's fairly predictable, and the endless references to time periods are kind of cringe ("Kate put on her tie-dyed t-shirt and bell-bottom jeans while listening to the Carpenters," that sort of thing), but it held my interest. It's quite a good story about two women whose relationship remains strong even through times of conflict and betrayal. (Apparently this novel was made into a TV series too, although my friend says it's very different from the book.)

O William! - Elizabeth Strout.
Strout is one of my favourite novelists and I will eagerly read anything she writes. This book, about the title character from her earlier novel My Name is Lucy Barton, explores writer Lucy's relationship with her first husband, William, and her role in helping him discover secrets from his past. Strout is so good at capturing people and relationships in a few quick strokes. I loved it.

Lucy By the Sea - Elizabeth Strout.
I was thrilled to discover this fall that another Elizabeth Strout novel about Lucy Barton had come out. It's about Lucy's experience through the Covid-19 pandemic as she escapes New York with William for a seaside house in Maine. This one was not quite as satisfying to me; Strout is not a highly dramatic writer, but this felt especially flat and formless. Maybe that was her way of depicting pandemic life – but I didn't find it as compelling as I'd hoped to. I also feel at times that Strout wants to "both-sides" things: for example, to use her characters to try to understand the motives of the Jan. 6/21 White House insurrectionists. I think if you're going to do that, you have to go all in, rather than say "but there were racists and Nazis there too" and then back away, shrugging at the mystery of it all. (There's a whiff of privileged Boomer energy here, despite Lucy Barton's destitute upbringing.) All this to say, if you're a Strout fan you won't want to miss this one, but in my view it isn't one of her best.

The Lincoln Highway - Amor Towles.
I'd describe this book as a "yarn." It begins with Emmett, a teenage boy in 1950s Nebraska, returning home from a work farm after his father's death. He and his little brother decide to drive from Nebraska to California to start new lives and maybe find their long-lost mother. But two friends from the work farm have stowed away in their car and suggest a detour that leads them in the opposite direction, to New York City. It's quite entertaining, with chapters told from the point of view of multiple characters.

(I also started Anthony Doerr's Cloud Cuckoo Land because I'd heard raves about it, but I abandoned it in the early going when it became obvious that a character who commits a terrible act of destruction (very early on, so no spoiler here) is likely autistic. Autistic people are far likelier to be victims of crime than perpetrators, so this inaccurate trope can be really damaging, regardless of the author's intent. Doerr strikes me as a wise author, so this was a real disappointment; I wish someone had warned him against taking this approach -- or if someone did, that he had listened.)


Well, that's my list! Thanks for reading it -- or skimming it, or even just glancing at it and saying "TL: DR -- I ain't reading all that." I'd love it if you'd leave a comment below and tell me if you've read any of these, or if you've read something else in 2022 that was especially meaningful to you.

 

Thursday, December 22, 2022

Merry Christmas from our home to yours - 2022

 


Christmas 2022

As 2022 winds down, I thought I'd take a few minutes to reflect on our family's year and share a little of what's been going on in the Prinsen household.



Richard and Jonathan - photo by Jeannie, August 2022

 Jonathan turned 20 in September and is now in his last year of school. It is hard to see this phase of his life coming to an end because school has been such a happy place for him ever since he was a little kindergartener at Rideau Public School. But I'm sure he will adjust to the changes just as he always has -- and I guess we will too. Organizations like Extend-a-Family, whose camps and Saturday programs Jonathan has attended for many years, offer adult day programming, so we'll consider whether a setting like that is appropriate for him come September of 2023. There is still time to work some of these things out. Jonathan had another bout of more frequent seizures this summer and had to have some more medication dose adjustments; at the moment he is four months seizure-free. His neurologist sees him every six months, so with her direction we just stay the course when things are going well and adjust medications as needed. Jonathan continues his unwavering interest in all things related to garbage and recycling, brooms, shovels, dustpans, windmills, and seagulls -- and he shouts "Good job!" encouragingly to people when he sees them walking their dogs or shoveling their driveways.

 Allison and Jeannie - photo by Naomi De Jonge, June 2022

Allison is 24 and is continuing her studies in Linguistics at Queen's. This past semester was the first one in which she attended all of her classes in person on campus, and it went very well. She made the Dean's Honours List with Distinction (GPA 3.9 or above), so we are pretty proud of her for that achievement. She is still living at home, which is a good arrangement while she's at university.

Richard's year started off in a way he didn't intend and wouldn't have planned: in January he fell on ice while out for a run and broke his fibula (the thinner bone in the lower leg). He required surgery and spent the winter convalescing and healing. By April he was able to weight-bear and go back to work; then over the spring and summer he eventually got back to running and even a little soccer. This fall he started back as a volunteer at the Run & Read program at Molly Brant Public School; this program had not run in person since pre-Covid.

I (Jeannie) retired from my online course work at Queen's at the end of the winter 2022 semester, and that's been a good change. I always enjoyed connecting with the students, but I was ready for a break from the constant marking and putting-out of fires. I'm working a few hours a week as a copy editor for Kingstonist News, a local online news site; the people are great to work with, and I enjoy working away behind the scenes, tidying up punctuation and grammar and checking details. As for my writing, I've had three publications this year, all poems: if interested, you can read those at the top of the "My Writing" page of this blog.

All four of us succumbed to Covid-19 in August after avoiding it for 2-1/2 years. Jonathan probably picked it up at summer camp, though we can't be sure of that. The kids recovered pretty quickly, but Richard and I were knocked out with fatigue for nearly two weeks.

 The biggest and hardest piece of news from this past year is that my dad died in April. (See his obituary here: Arnold MacEachern. It will appear as a pop-up; just wait for it.) He had lived in Whisperwood Villa, a Charlottetown nursing home, since the fall of 2019, and I had only seen him once since Covid began. In March of this year the nursing home had a Covid outbreak, and Dad got it; though he was not all that sick with it, it may simply have been too hard for him to bounce back, especially when he was already quite weak with advanced kidney failure. My brother Alan was with him when he died, and he just slipped away peacefully. We had a funeral for him in late April; I and my brothers Lincoln, Alan, and Errol were all able to be there (my brother Scott, who lives and works in China, could not make it). The four of us spoke and/or sang at the service and tried to honour Dad as best we could -- which honestly was not difficult. Dad was such a wonderful person: patient, hard-working, faithful, interested in people, true salt of the earth. The world doesn't seem the same without him, particularly with Mom also gone. At the funeral my brother Lincoln sang Rodney Crowell's song "Love Is All I Need," and this is the final verse:

I had a dream last night: I saw my mom and dad
They were happy now, and I was glad.
They had a brand new house; they'd just moved in
And when I awoke, they were gone again...

I know love is all I need
I know love is all I need
I know love is all I need
That's all I know

Drawing of Dad and Mom by my niece, Meredith Mac Eachern

Those seem like fitting words with which to draw this letter to a close. As 2022 nears its end we have extended family members with health concerns, and these things have a way of distilling life down to what really matters: love, family, and friendship. The small acts of caring and kindness often turn out to be the most significant; as my favourite quote from The Fellowship of the Ring puts it, "Such is oft the course of deeds that move the wheels of the world: small hands do them because they must, while the eyes of the great are elsewhere."

This describes the story of Christmas as well: how the greatest event, the Incarnation, was embodied in the smallest package -- a tiny baby, weak and vulnerable, born while the eyes of the world looked elsewhere. 

This Christmas, may your celebrations and observances -- religious or otherwise -- be filled with love, and may the New Year bring you peace and joy. 

Jeannie, Richard, Allison, and Jonathan


 

Sunday, December 18, 2022

Fourth Sunday in Advent: LOVE

 

Photo by Richard Prinsen, December 20/22

 

On this fourth Sunday of Advent, the theme is LOVE.

Have you ever heard someone say "God is a God of love," only to have someone else quickly reply,"But He's also a God of justice"? Or "But He's also a holy God"?

I have. This approach seems to suggest that love is just one of many characteristics God possesses. Sometimes He'll need to emphasize one characteristic more than the other (like a worker choosing one tool over another depending on the task), but we should never lose sight of the other side: "God is loving but just." "God is merciful but also righteous." 

The deeper implication, I think, is that love is kind of flabby and indulgent and must always be balanced by something more strict. If we focus too much on love, the idea goes, we give people the idea that they can do whatever they want without consequences, so we need a corrective of justice or righteousness to keep things under control. Thinking about it, I can honestly say I've never heard anyone say we can swing too far in the direction of God's holiness -- but I've definitely heard that we can swing too far in the direction of His love.

Pastor/teacher Brad Jersak describes love in an entirely different way: it is not one of God's many characteristics, but rather it is God's essence.

God’s nature or essence is simple, boiled down for us in the fourth chapter of John’s epistle: “God is love…” God is not love plus anything. Love is the essence of the Triune nature and every attribute of God is a facet of that one Diamond or flows from that one infinite Spring. Anything we say about God’s holiness, justice or wrath can only be said with reference to God’s love. The “holiness” or “justice” or “wrath” that is not love is not God’s.

- Brad Jersak, "Does God Punish?"

I like this explanation so much (though I can't pretend I completely comprehend it). Love is who God is. These other things are expressions of who God is. 

So we don't need to say "Yes, He's love, but He's also..." But doesn't enter into it. Everything God does expresses who He is: love. Love isn't a weight placed on one side of a scale; rather, as Jersak puts it, the love that God is is more like a diamond with many facets or a spring from which everything else flows.

That means of course that Jesus -- who is "the exact representation of [God's] being" (Heb. 1:3) -- fully embodies that love too. Jesus didn't just do loving things like healing the sick or feeding the hungry or even dying on the cross; Jesus was Love. Jesus is Love.

If that's true, then even the tiny baby wriggling in the manger, in all his vulnerability and innocence, was -- is -- Love. The one whose birth we anticipate and celebrate at Christmas is Love.

**************************************

The Risk of Birth
- Madeleine L'Engle

This is no time for a child to be born,
With the earth betrayed by war and hate
And a comet slashing the sky to warn
That time runs out & the sun burns late.

That was no time for a child to be born,
In a land in the crushing grip of Rome;
Honor & truth were trampled to scorn—
Yet here did the Savior make His home.

When is the time for love to be born?
The inn is full on the planet earth,
And by a comet the sky is torn—
Yet Love still takes the risk of birth.
 

**************************************

You can read my previous Advent posts here at these links: HOPE, PEACE, JOY.


Sunday, December 11, 2022

Third Sunday in Advent: JOY

On this third Sunday of Advent, the theme is JOY. 

I say that pretty confidently, but actually I wasn't even sure until yesterday what the "official" theme was for Advent 3. I had to ask the experts ... on Twitter. Was it joy? Or was it love? Somebody tell me – I need to know how to feel!

But of course the Advent themes aren't emotions. When we light the candle of Joy, we aren't proclaiming a fluctuating feeling of pleasure or good cheer -- which is a relief for those who find Christmas a sad, lonely time or who, in their lives in general, struggle with grief, poor health, broken relationships, or despair about the future.
 
The Joy symbolized by the brave, persistent flame of this third candle is a deeper sense of well-being that isn't dependent on our circumstances or personalities. It's not something we live up to. It's more like something God lives down to. Jesus' birth is the breaking-through of that joy into our world and our lives.

My favourite line from a Christmas carol, in fact probably my favourite line of any Christian hymn, is this one, from "Joy to the World":

He comes to make his blessings flow far as the curse is found.

I think this is the Gospel in a single sentence: that Jesus comes to bring life and blessing to every corner of our planet and the deepest places of our hearts. Everywhere there is death and brokenness, Jesus comes to heal and restore.

I'm so sorry if you don't feel joy today. I get it. Things are pretty rough out there right now. Let's light the Joy candle -- that's the pink one -- together. Let's allow that deep Joy, that sense of God's all-rightness and blessing that flows beneath everything, to make its way into our hearts. Even if we don't feel it, let's rest in it as we make our way toward the celebration of Jesus' birth.



(You can read my previous Advent posts here: HOPE and PEACE.)



Sunday, December 04, 2022

Second Sunday in Advent: PEACE


On this second Sunday in Advent, the theme is PEACE.

It's been said there are three kinds of peace: peace with ourselves, peace with others, peace with God.

Peace with myself. I'm not sure how that looks for you, but for me peace with myself means the assurance that I did the best I could, that I didn't grasp for control or betray my deepest values, that I accepted my limitations and just allowed myself to be an ordinary person.

Peace with others. There's a Scripture verse that says, "As far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone." (Romans 12:18) I find that first part of the sentence helpful because it acknowledges that when it comes to relationships, we can really only be responsible for our own stuff. Taking that responsibility may mean asking, Have I done all I can to foster peace, even if I feel betrayed or misrepresented? Does peace mean speaking up, or letting go? Can there be peace without restoration of relationship? These are tough questions. It strikes me, as I think about it, that peace with others and peace with ourselves are actually not all that separate.

Peace with God. Over the past couple of years, as I've been challenged to rethink a lot of things about faith and church and Christian community, I'm realizing more and more that peace with God doesn't depend on attending church, signing off on the tenets of "historic Christianity" (whatever that is), or proving our worth to God. God has already made peace with us – with me. The Incarnation shows that this has always been God's greatest desire: to be in relationship with us, to reveal what He is like, to bring peace and harmony to every corner of the planet. Jesus comes, as the carol says, "to make his blessings flow far as the curse is found."

As we walk through the sometimes dark days of Advent, may we know peace in all its forms, as a Presence deeper than emotions and circumstances, sustaining and upholding us on our path.

****************************

You can read my previous advent post here: HOPE.

Sunday, November 27, 2022

First Sunday in Advent: HOPE

 

photo Jeannie Prinsen 2020
 
 It's the first Sunday in Advent.

I haven't been attending church since the pandemic began, and while I don't miss everything, I do miss the tradition of Advent: the songs and the candle-lighting in particular.

Which candle is Advent One, anyway ... I always forget. Is it Peace? No, I'm pretty sure it's HOPE. 

Since the hope candle gets lit first, it burns down first, so a few weeks into the season it might need to be replaced with a fresh one. You wouldn't want it to burn too low and start a fire, especially in the middle of the Christmas Eve service. 

It seems a bit like cheating to take away that little stub and start all over again with an unused candle. But on the other hand it makes perfect sense to acknowledge that our hope can burn low and need refreshing. There's no shame in admitting that. Circumstances, personal and global, can snuff out our hope so that only a wisp of smoke remains.

If one of us finds our hope sputtering, we can hold hope for one another. Refresh one another's candle. Remind one another that Light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not -- will not -- overcome it.

FreeImages.com

Thursday, September 08, 2022

20 years of Jonathan

 

It's Jonathan's birthday today; he is 20 years old.  

 


Can you believe that cheerful butterball (who actually did have a neck, despite appearances to the contrary) has turned into this tall young man?

 Jonathan Sept. 8, 2022 - photo Jeannie Prinsen

Having Jonathan in our lives has given us a different perspective on life than we might otherwise have had. Garbage trucks, geese and seagulls, brooms and shovels, lines of laundry all have greater significance because of Jonathan's interest in these things. Everyone he meets is a friend, and the simplest pleasures give his life meaning and joy.

 Jonathan 2017 - photo Jeannie Prinsen

I wrote the following poem, "Lakeside, with Jonathan" about five years ago and was honoured to have it published in the literary journal Relief. I think it describes Jonathan better than almost anything else could. Happy birthday, Jonathan.

 

Lakeside, with Jonathan

 To the waterfront at Lake Ontario Park we go,
you leading the way to your favourite place: down,

down stone steps to the little cobble beach, where a shelf
of flat rocks stretches into the water. Cross-legged

on a rock, you gaze at the lake, its wind-ruffled surface
dancing with a million bright diamonds. You call out

to the gulls that wheel across the sky, and watch
a half-dozen geese skim the water then swoop

swiftly up and away. You look around
with a smile and say Happy.

This is as abstract as you get, you whose mind anchors
firmly in the tangibles: supper, school, garbage truck.

No bedtime confidences for you, no heartfelt talks
of dreams or hopes, just the familiar, daily repetition.

I could choose to grieve what’s not, or let you teach me
that peace abides in the way water swells and breaks

again and again on the shore, that the seabirds speak
to you as they cry overhead, that the windmills

over on the island are your friends, tall and steady
in the sunlight, their long arms waving hello.

 


Friday, July 29, 2022

Five Minute Friday: BE

Today I'm linking up with the Five Minute Friday community, writing for five minutes on a given prompt. This week's word is BE.

***

Jonathan's been attending Extend-a-Family day camp for the past few weeks, as he has every summer (except 2020) since he was about six. Every Tuesday this summer they walk to the park and spend the day at the splash pad.

This past Tuesday at the park they were very surprised and delighted to meet up with Jonathan's friend Nick, whom he's known ever since they were little campers together at EAF. Nick now lives in a different town, and they haven't seen one another in over three years.

I wasn't there, but their encounter was captured in a few photos that Nick's grandmother sent me. This one is my favourite.

Jonathan (striped shirt), Nick (black shirt),
and camp counselor Lewis (green hoodie).

The joy of their reunion is unmistakable. They laughed, they played with each other's caps, and they laughed some more. Nick is nonverbal, but he and Jonathan did not need to use words to communicate how happy they were to see each other again. All they had to do was BE.

Jonathan and Nick in 2015

It's rare to find friendships that are just based on the joy of BEING. Often we think friendship must involve shared activities, beliefs, or life stages ... or that it requires seeing the friend a certain number of times a year ... or that we have to reciprocate invitations and pay back favours so everything is even. Some influencers even tell us -- especially in light of Covid, which has caused us to rethink a lot of our priorities -- that we should curate our friend lists to eliminate anyone who doesn't add value, who doesn't help make us The Best Version of Ourselves.

Jonathan and Nick help remind me that none of that is essential to a good friendship. Just being together and delighting in one another is all that's required.