Back in Hamilton

Micah and I are now back in Hamilton, trying to get ready for the next phase of our life. Our time in Vancouver was so very good. Regent College was a great experience for me, a good transition between jobs. I met lots of interesting people and learned a great deal. And I was able to spend a good amount of time with Micah as every weekend was a four-day weekend. Micah spent three days a week with Paula's parents, which allowed them to form a strong bond.

I came back to Hamilton about a week ago and set about almost immediately to working on our new house. I bought this huge 90-year-old house on Aberdeen together with my friends Justin and Rachel. My parents and I spent a week working on my part of the house... refinishing hardwood floors, painting, fixing, etc. It is starting to look great and it will be a fantastic home for Micah and I. We live on the second floor while our friends are on the main floor.

I am looking forward to spending Christmas with friends and family and beyond to January when I will begin to teach at Redeemer. There have been so many changes and it will take some time before I feel settled here. At times I feel quite displaced and wonder whose life it is that I am living. I long to feel "at home" somewhere again; it is hard without Paula. But we're getting there and I know that this place will be a good home.

Nkunga, Kenya

In our last few months in England, Paula and our friend Louise headed up an initiative to get our church to "sponsor" a community in Kenya through an organization called Food for the Hungry. I unfortunately missed Paula's passionate speach to the church to raise the necessary support as I was out of town. I am sad about this. It was clearly very compelling and the church made a long-term commitment to the community of Nkunga and the work of Food for the Hungry there.

Last year, a team of people from Highfield church went to Nkunga and assisted in setting up a rainwater collection and storage system at the village school. This water system was dedicated to Paula.

Louise and her husband Mark recently went to Kenya and shared with me her experience of going to Nkunga and remembering Paula there. She shared these pictures:

The above plaque hangs in the school's headmaster's office and reads:

Paula

Paula Brouwer was a member of Highfield Church and was killed in a car accident in May 2007. She worked hard to bring about the link between Highfield Church and Nkunga community. She prayed that the people of Nkunga would work together to make Nkunga a good place to live. She wanted each person in Nkunga to develop their gifts and skills so that they could become all that God created them to be.
This community water tank is dedicated to her.
Please continue to pray for her husband Darren and their baby son Micah who are left behind.
Paula's favourite verse was Micah 6:8 "He has shown you, O man, what is good. And what does the Lord require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God."

Louise wrote to me "The water tank is incredible. During the rains it fills up completely (from the roof of the school – it is in the school grounds). At the moment it is very low, they are praying for rain. The tank means that each child at the school (around 200 of them) can take one container of clean drinking water home per day to their family. It’s amazing because the walk to the lake for water is long and can be dangerous. Obviously they still use the water in the lake for washing etc but the clean drinking water is a huge blessing."

I hope that one day Micah and I can visit this place and find a village that has been transformed.

house, home, community

As many of you know, while we were in Ottawa , Micah and I were invited to live with our friends Jonathan and Jen Patrick and their kids. To have friends, a family, community right there below us was crucial for me during the first year of this journey since Paula died.

When I decided to come out to Vancouver to study at Regent, our friends Rick and Crista invited Micah and I to live with their family in their (smallish) townhouse. The day before we flew out, Rick informed me that they had got to know their next-door neighbours over the summer. The neighbour happens to be a professional hockey player in Europe and just before he left, he offered his townhouse for Micah and I to live in for our time here. Incredible generosity from a stranger!

Continuing the theme of house, home, and community, as of yesterday I am a home owner, or more precisely, a co-owner of a house in Hamilton. For over a year, I have been in conversation with our friends Justin and Rachel Cook about living together or at least close together when I finally arrive in Hamilton. At the end of the summer, we had a look at this big old house on Aberdeen Avenue and got pretty excited about it, as it met most of our criteria. So we put in an offer and have spent most of September negotiating and trying to get everything in place, which is not entirely straightforward with me being out west. But, as of yesterday we now own it! The current tenants will remain until December when we will all move in. Justin, Rachel, and their two girls will have the main floor and basement, while Micah and I will have the second and third floors. The house is 90 years old and needs a fair bit of work, but we're really excited about it and what it will become.

I am thankful that I had, have, and will have good friends to share life with; in the past, present and the future.

sick and tired of it

At chapel this week at Regent, we were told that the wife of one of the professors died that morning of cancer. I cried. For this man I've never met and for his kids. For my new friend I saw across the chapel who was also crying because he lost his wife three years ago to cancer. For my friend Mendelt. For myself. Today I read on Mendelt's blog that two of his friends died from cancer last night.

I'm sick and tired of people dying and their loved ones being left without them.

Is your wife here with you?

This past weekend Micah and I went on the Regent College fall retreat with about 450 people from the Regent community: facutly, staff, students and their spouses and kids. It was a great opportunity to connect with the people here at Regent. However, I was not prepared for the fact that in every conversation that I had with a new person, within a few minutes I would be asked if my wife was here on the retreat with me? Under normal circumstances I am not asked this, since Micah is usually not with me in these contexts. But this time with Micah there with me, it was obvious that I am a father and then assumed that I would have a wife. I don't fault people for assuming this, but it made for many difficult conversations for me. I thought very seriously about going back home to avoid this, but I stuck it out. On balance, I am glad that I did because some good conversations with some great people emerged. And Micah had a great time with all the other kids. But it wasn't easy and I felt more alone than I have in quite a while. So, be careful not to make too many assumptions about people's situations. Life is a lot more complicated for many.

Justice?

Yesterday, the man who caused the accident in which Paula was killed pleaded guilty in court to careless driving. This charge is very different than the original criminal charges of dangerous driving causing death and dangerous driving causing bodily harm. There was something written up in the Ottawa Citizen today about it (click here and here).

Essentially, the crown attorneys felt that the "dangerous driving" part of the charges could not be proven, given the circumstances of the accident. What the Ottawa Citizen article does not say is that there was a Supreme Court decision in February 2008 that changed the understanding of the law such that the consequences of the accident (death and injury) do not factor into determining whether or not the driving was dangerous (click here for a bit of an explanation).

It doesn't seem fair. But what would be fair and just? Really, how could the justice system ever make up for the fact that Paula is dead, that I am left without a wife, Micah without a mother, her parents without a daughter, our friends without such an amazing friend? Over that past 16 months I had not put much expectation and hope into the results of these charges. What would it change for me? My journey through my grief and loss doesn't depend on what the courts do. Don't get me wrong, I am still angry and disappointed about this, but I am not willing to let this disappointment lead to bitterness and despair.

Regent

I have not posted anything for some time now. So here's a bit of an update of where we are.

We spent the latter half of the summer in Hamilton, spending time with friends and family, camping, suffering through a very serious case of poison ivy, and getting settled in at Redeemer where I will begin teaching in January.

Micah and I are now in Vancouver where I will be studying for the fall semester at Regent College, taking courses in OT biblical studies, history and philosophy of science, and Christian thought and culture. Much of what I learn and experience here will be invaluable for my future at Redeemer which will begin in earnest in January. I have just completed a few days of orientation at Regent and am anticipating a great semester. It is a fascinating place with all sorts of interesting people.

Paula is sorely missed here. This is something that we wanted to do, but didn't really have the opportunity to. Vancouver is where we spent most of our life together. Her parents are in the Vancouver area, so Micah will see them a lot during this time. He has adjusted to the many changes in our life incredibly well.

I continue to struggle with understanding exactly who I am now, but do sense that God is rebuilding my life into something new. I have some inklings of what that may look like, but I am far from there yet. It is a long, difficult, and lonely road.

Ottawa Heroes

Micah and I have now moved to Hamilton. We left Ottawa last week Thursday. It all feels quite surreal, as it only feels like we're visiting. It will take some time to feel settled here.

I wrote the following on my computer as I was leaving Ottawa, but haven't got around to posting in until now.

Today I am leaving Ottawa. As I go, I want to thank a number of people who were crucial to making it through the past year:
Bertina Hogeterp, my cousin, who has been taking care of Micah when I have been working. She is a big part of who Micah is now.
Jonathan & Jen Patrick, my friends who lived downstairs from us and shared their lives with Micah and I, providing meals and companionship, easing my loneliness.
John & Sally Patrick who vacated their beautiful apartment in the Glebe in order that Micah and I could live in the same house as JP and Jen.
Eric & Brenda Brouwer, my brother and sister-in-law who had Micah and I over for dinner with their family every week.
Dan & Sheila Veenstra, friends from our church, who brought over dinner to my place every other week, and were great friends.
Rev. Jennifer Wickham and family, for opening their home to me, sharing meals, for friendship, support, and prayer.
Rev. David Crawley, rector at our church, who met with me regularly for coffee over the past year, providing a listening ear and good counsel.
Richard & Karen Hoshino who made sure that the nursery at church was staffed, so that I could attend church, confident that Micah was well-taken care of.

I will miss these people and all of my other friends in Ottawa.
Thank you for all your support over this last year.

Micah's Birthday

Today Micah turned two. He is happy, healthy, and a great kid all around. For this I am very thankful.



(I look at these photos of Micah and I with photos of Paula just beside and below us. What a happy looking family... except Paula is not and will not be in any of these pictures any more)

Rugby photos

Over the past few days, I've been going through old photographs and I came across these two of Paula playing rugby. She is not smiling in these pictures (as she usually is in most photos), but has a look of fierce determination. This determination of hers was not confined only to rugby, but existed for everything that she was passionate about.

Theodicy

At church on Sunday we sang Luther's classic hymn A Mighty Fortress is our God and it really struck me how death is described as a great evil, but yet ultimately is defeated through Christ's death and resurrection. The song is fittingly sombre, and very powerful. I was really moved to anger at death, at the evil of Paula's death. The good kind of anger. Then we sang Blessed be Your Name a contemporary worship song. The lyrics aren't really all that bad (I had a look at them again today), but it is sung in such a way-too-happy sort of way. "You give and take away/ My heart will choose to say/ Lord, blessed be Your name" I couldn't sing it, at least not like that, with everyone else so seemingly happy. Do they know what it means for the Lord to "take away?"

Here is what makes more sense to me, something written by Nicholas Wolterstorff that I recently shared with my friend Mendelt:
"The Bible speaks of God's over-coming death. Paul calls it the last great enemy to be overcome. God is appalled by death... Seeing God as the agent of death is one way of fitting together into a rational pattern God, ourselves, and death. There are other ways: ...God too is pained by death much even more than you and I are; but there's nothing much he can do about it. I cannot fit it all together by saying 'He did it' but neither can I do so by saying 'There was nothing he could do about it.' I cannot fit it together at all. I can only, with Job, endure. I do not know why God did not prevent Eric's [Paula's, Marisa's] death. To live without the answer is precarious. It is hard to keep one's footing... I have no explanation. I can do nothing else than endure in the face of this deepest and most painful of mysteries. I believe in God the Father Almighty, maker of heaven and earth and resurrecter of Jesus Christ. I also believe that my son's [wife's] life was cut off in its prime. I cannot fit these pieces together. I am at a loss... To the most agonizing question I have ever asked I do not know the answer. I do not know why God would watch him [her] die. I do not know why God would watch me wounded. I cannot even guess... I am not angry, but baffled and hurt. My wound is an unanswered question. The wounds of all humanity are an unanswered question."

Back from the west

It has been a month since I have last posted anything. Micah and I have been out west for most of the past month, for a number of reasons. I had a chemistry conference to attend in Edmonton, we visited Paula's parents and many of our friends in the Vancouver area, and I took an excellent course at Regent College. There is much for me to process and think about from this trip, as it marks the beginning of a transition into our new life: new experiences and memories, new relationships and friendships, new ideas and directions.

One of the highlights was a personal retreat at Rivendell retreat centre on Bowen Island, during which I began to write a series of letters that I hope to give to Micah one day when he is older. I hope that I have the discipline to finish this over the summer. I also re-read two of the books that I read last summer (Wolterstorff's Lament for a Son and Sittser's A Grace Disguised) and I was struck by how much my grief journey was influenced by these two books. I don't think I would be in the place I am now if it were not for what these wise and experienced fellow mourners have shared and expressed in their books.

It was strange to spend a long stretch of time in Vancouver, where Paula and I spent the bulk of our life together. In some ways, that time seems like a past life already, which is frightening to me.

Chapter Two

Today is the beginning of year two, chapter two, of Life-without-Paula.

Strangely, I awoke this morning with a little bit more peace, a little less of a heavier heart, and genuine anticipation for what this year holds. I will obviously continue to grieve for Paula, but I think it will be a little less painful and sad. I hope that pictures of Paula and recollection of memories will no longer only bring pangs of sadness over our loss, but bring a slight smile to my face as I recall a joy-filled life with Paula.

Over the past two days, I did a lot of remembering. I entered into memories and past events that I had been too afraid to go into. I read my entire journal over the past year; I read the entire blog again for the first time; I drove the route that Paula drove on that tragic day; I sat at the scene of the accident and watched the still-speeding trucks go by; I visited the hospital where she died; I cried; I wrote more in my journal; I brought flowers to Paula's grave and stayed for a long time.

My journal and the blog were amazing to read again. I am thankful that I had written down the events of the days surrounding her death, because I wouldn't be able to remember many details, as I was in so much shock. Your comments on the blog - the tributes to Paula - brought joy to me as I re-read them all. The sum total of these tributes really capture who Paula was. Thank you to all who have shared.

I miss her so much still - even more so after this time of remembering. But my heart is not as heavy as it once was. Thank you for all your encouraging emails, thoughts, and prayers this week.

Paula's Star Poem

The wonder of it is:
Whatever God creates
He names.
What, after all, is the conception
of babies or stars (or anything else)
but divine love specifically naming?

She was a young woman:
Comet bright, rugby boisterous,
Laughing earth's joy, sobbing its sorrow.
Illuminating with flaring righteousness
the ordered orbits of friends and strangers,
Her passionate caring,
in turn, love-shielded by friends;
Her songs of joy and justice woven
into the universal hymn surrounding her.

She was too young!
Heaven and earth still weep
at the savage galactic gash
inflicted by her sudden eclipse,
Leaving behind
dark desolation.

Yet, the glory of it is:
She is called home,
To join the pure harmonies
of the Christ-starred cosmic chorus,
Or the perfect laughter
of an angelic frisbee match.
Eternally named!

For you, her lover,
Once named to sing her songs,
Husband, her laughter and tears,
Shelter her passion,
Nuture the fierce light
she shed upon the world,

And for you, infant treasure,
Star bones already divinely knitted and reknitted,
You who were cradled
in a more tender light,
Bathed only
in a clear maternal glow

May grief's vast black hole
Be laced with traces of cosmic laughter

May you see again the wonder and the glory.

written by my Aunt Kathy (June 2007)

Tulip Festival

On Saturday, Micah and I walked over to Commissioners Park at Dow's Lake to have a look at the tens of thousands of tulips in full bloom. It was stunning and glorious.

But it was also very difficult. I couldn't help but envy the seemingly happy young families who would smile at Micah and I, happy children with their fathers and mothers out for a day together. That would have been Paula, Micah, and I, and who knows, perhaps a small baby as well. The life that could have been, but now never will be.

This was the last outing we went on with Paula. The pictures I have of her end on that day we went to the Tulip festival last spring. This coming week will mark one year since Paula's life ended so suddenly. I covet your prayers during this time.

Paula's Birthday

I must admit that I faced Paula's birthday on Saturday with a great deal of trepidation. I didn't know how to mark this day. Part of me wanted to celebrate her life, but another part didn't want to face the pain of what I have lost. Part of me wanted to just not do anything at all, but this would not honour Paula. Part of me wanted to just be alone. Part of me wanted to be with people so that I wouldn't be alone.

After breakfast, I got our bike and bike trailer out of the basement, pumped up the tires, and Micah and I set out for a long bike ride along the canal and river to the cemetary. We were blessed with a warm sunny day. We spent an hour at Paula's grave. I was expecting it to be very somber, but Micah was full of exuberance. This was a gift to me.

As Micah napped in the afternoon, I poured through photo albums of my life with Paula. It brought back many happy memories, but again, great sadness at the depth of our loss. We miss her so much. In the evening we had a small gathering of friends and had a barbeque. Afterwards, my brother and sister-in-law took me out for a beer.

Thank you to all who called or sent me an email to encourage me on this difficult day.

Today, Micah and I went out biking after supper to a waterfall, gushing with the spring thaw. Micah was in awe, as was I.

I love this kid. I miss his mother.

Birthdays and Firsts

(from Paula's brother Stephen)

I love April. Spring consumes April. April’s vowel is the first letter in the alphabet. With five simple letters it stands alone, undivided as a prime. However, this year April holds two painful distinctions: birthdays and the preface to the final chapter of a year that leads to the anniversary of Paula’s untimely death.

Tomorrow marks eleven months since Paula’s passing. I’m at a loss as how to navigate the coming weeks. Weeks that house Paula’s birthday - in four days; my birthday - in thirteen days; and the anniversary of her death, again, in thirty days.

The coming month also marks the end of a year with the most “traditional” firsts without her. The first Noel came and went, first New Year, first Easter, Halloween and first every other normally benign calendar day that may contain an email or “hi, it’s me” on the other end of the telephone line. And, most importantly, Micah’s first birthday. The pending three dates mark the unwanted triad of primaries that will be the most personal to surpass.

Our parents, for most the part, always combined our birthdays, as we are nine days apart, and that simple gesture belies the woven and natural depth of the camaraderie and adoration that I shared with Paula. Although, funny enough, once out of the nest, neither one of us ever sent a greeting to each other that arrived on time – I guess we just knew we had the whole month to ourselves.

Thirty days from now will likely be consumed with the greatest isolation and sorrow, and will surely bare down with unflinching, painful precision. But our two days this month contain some of my happiest personal memories. And so, in a year of painful firsts, I still love and find hope in April.

Happy Birthday Paula - I miss and love you.

Love letters

Today was a beautiful, warm, sunny spring day, hopefully the end of this long winter. After our traditional Saturday morning pancake breakfast with the Patricks, Micah and I went to the Central Experimental Farm and hung out with the farm animals. Micah loves animals, although he was a bit timid around the real life ones.

While Micah napped this afternoon, I sat outside in the sun on my balcony with a cup of coffee and read through the box of letters and cards that Paula and I had exchanged over the years (Paula was a pack-rat!). I have not had the courage to do this until today. I am not even sure why I did it today.

The first year of our relationship was long-distance, so there were a lot of letters (and emails which are now unfortunately lost) exchanged between us. The memories which reading these letters evoked were overwhelming.

Here are two things I want to share.

In her very first letter to me, Paula wrote:
“I should tell you now (since I am planning to write to you again!)… I tend to use a lot of exclamation marks – I try not to, but I can’t help it!” (August 26, 1996)

This sums up Paula’s contagious enthusiasm and energy that she was renowned for, something that she just couldn’t help but have. I miss this so much.

In a letter to her, I wrote:
“I really feel like I have been blessed in my life - a great family, awesome friends, so many opportunities – but it kind of scares me in a way. I’ve never had to struggle… I’ve never been really disappointed… I’ve never had doors close on me. I just wonder if it will ever come crashing down on me?” (March 23, 1997)

Unfortunately it did.
In a way that I don’t think I could have ever imagined then.

Easter Saturday

Life right now feels like Easter Saturday, that in-between time between Christ's death on Good Friday and his resurrection on Easter Sunday.

I am still in sorrow over Paula's death, struggling to understand, bewildered by it all still, much as Jesus' disciples must of been after his death.

However, unlike the disciples on that Saturday, I know how the story goes. I know that Easter morning lies around the corner. I know that Christ has defeated death and that all things wait to be fully renewed.

There are new and exciting things for Micah and I in the coming year, but we're not quite there yet. We are still in this place between the old and the new, between sorrow and joy, longing for the past but waiting with hope for the future.

Happy Easter.

311 Days

Today, Good Friday, is the 311th day since Paula died.

Micah was 311 days old when he miraculously survived the crash that killed his mother.

Starting tomorrow, Micah's life will have been more without Paula than with her. As time marches forward, these 311 days will become a smaller and smaller proportion of his life.

I lament that life goes on and pushes out our former life. All we have now are stories, memories, photographs, and a few cherished possessions. But it is her that we want, that we miss so much.

Trucks

For those who have been with Micah in the past month or so, you will know that he is infatuated with trucks. He will play with his toy trucks for hours; at his grandparents' he will stand by the window and exclaim "tchruuck!" whenever one passes; when we drive, he points out every truck that he sees. He loves trucks.

If only he knew that it was a truck that took his mother from him.

Winter sports day

The great thing about living in Ottawa is that, if the weather is right, winter can be fantastic. Today I woke up to a bright sunny blue sky and a forcast for about -5 degrees: the perfect winter day. Micah and I spent the morning skating on the Rideau Canal skateway. We skated the entire length (in both directions). Or rather, I skated and pushed him in the stroller. After lunch, while Micah napped (for three hours!), my friend Jonathan and I went cross-country skiing in Gatineau Park. This is one my favourite things to do. Skiing through a silent, still forest is so peaceful. I spent most of the day thinking about Paula. About how we had wanted to instill in our children a love of recreation and the outdoors. About how we had hoped to grow old together and be like the fit Swiss septagenerians that would pass us when we were hiking in the Alps. I miss her so much, but know that she is proud that Micah and I continue to do things we loved.

Decisions

This past month or so, I have been consumed with making decisions, really big decisions. Having to make big decisions on your own is not fun. I so wish Paula could have been here with me.

I have decided to move from Ottawa to Hamilton. I have accepted a tenure-track faculty position in Chemisty at Redeemer University College, a small Christian liberal arts undergraduate university. Professionally, this is a big change for me, going from a relatively prominent research institution (the National Research Council of Canada) to a somewhat obscure teaching university. Personally, however, Hamilton is the closest thing to "home" for me now: my parents, my brother, the core of long-time deep friendships, Paula's brother in Toronto, and perhaps in the long run, Paula's parents. This was a very difficult decision to make, but I am confident that it is the best thing for me and for Micah. I feel a real sense of God's calling and leading in this. Furthermore, this is something that Paula and I had contemplated as a possibility for our future. I am very excited about joining the faculty at Redeemer and I feel that it is a good fit for who I am.

I plan to start teaching at Redeemer next January. I have decided that I need to take some time for myself and for Micah before delving into this new job. I plan to finish my present job in May, move to Hamilton in the summer at some point, and then go to Vancouver for the fall semester to take some courses at Regent College, something Paula and I had always wanted to do. Not only will this experience be great for me personally and spiritually, but it will lay a great foundation for my work at
Redeemer. Furthermore, Paula's parents live in the Vancouver area and I still have many close friendships there.

It will be a bit of an adventure for Micah and I and I am looking forward to what this year holds. But, oh how I wish Paula could be with us for this!

Skiing with Micah

I felt like I hadn't seen too much of Micah this week, so yesterday was a great day spending time with him. We had our traditional Saturday morning breakfast with my friends and their kids downstairs, and then Micah and I went cross-country skiing in Gatineau National Park. Well, obviously Micah didn't ski...I carried him on my back which was a lot harder that I thought it would be! Micah thoroughly enjoyed himself, squealing "Whee..." and "Ooooh.." everytime we sped down a hill. It was an absolutely beautiful cold and sunny day and we skied to a part of the park where there was nobody else, just a beautiful snow covered forest and only the sounds of birds. It was good to be still and silent for a time. We missed Paula. She would have loved it.

Response to Paula's mom's letter

Here is a response to Paula's mom's letter that was published the following day in the Ottawa Citizen (click here).

By the way, somehow the ability to leave comments on the last two posts was somehow turned off...I've fixed that now.

A letter from Paula's mom

Paula's mom wrote a beautiful letter in honour of Paula over Christmas that was published today in the Ottawa Citizen.

Traffic tragedy led to gift of life for six people

I am writing because I owe it to my dear daughter Paula Brouwer (Sharpe), who lost her life last spring after her car was rear-ended by a dump truck in Ottawa. And I want people who knew her to know that six others were given the gifts of life with her organ donations.

We had travelled to your city from British Columbia to spend the summer and celebrate many special events with Paula, our son-in-law, their 10-month old baby boy, and our son who lives in Toronto. On that tragic day, she was driving to have lunch her dad and me. With the baby in his car seat, her car was stopped, with the signal light on, to make a left turn off Prince of Wales Drive into the recreational vehicle park where our trailer was parked. As she waited to turn, a dump truck smashed into the back of her car.

Her dad was outside of our trailer waiting for her to arrive with our grandson. He heard the very loud bang but thought it was construction until he heard the sirens coming and stopping. He ran down to the corner praying it wasn't her car. Our grandson had some injuries and was treated in CHEO for a few days. Paula had severe injuries and died the following day at the Civic campus of the Ottawa Hospital.

She was only 31 years old.

She was a graduate of the University of British Columbia and had received many scholarships including one at the National Research Council in Ottawa. She played rugby for the Ottawa Indians Rugby Club for several years, most recently worked as a social worker with the Canadian Mental Health Association, and was involved in leadership at St. George's Anglican Church. She was loved by everyone who came in contact with her.

She donated all her organs which went to six different persons. Those who knew Paula and her generous spirit would know that providing others with another chance at a full life is exactly what she would have wanted. Whomever received Paula's heart is without doubt the luckiest person in the world. Life will never be the same for her family without our loving, caring Paula. I want her to be remembered by everyone in Ottawa, the city she loved and made her home in.

JUNE SHARPE, Port Coquitlam, B.C.

Rings

For those of you who have had a look at my hand you may have noticed that I wear Paula's wedding band on my little finger, beside my ring finger on which I still wear my wedding ring. This is very meaningful for me, as I have been wearing her ring since that tragic day when the nurse handed me a package of Paula's personal effects prior to her going into the emergency surgery to attempt to save her life. I remember instinctively putting on her rings on my little fingers as soon as I received them from the nurse. I think I continue wear her wedding band because it is so hard to contemplate the fact that I am actually no longer married.

However, there is a problem. The ring is slightly too big for my finger. It tends to slip off in the cold. Like tonight. I arrived back from a long drive from Hamilton to another snowstorm in Ottawa. After unpacking the car and bringing my things to the back entrance, I shovelled about 15 cm of snow off the driveway. When I was finished, Paula's wedding ring was no longer on my finger. As you can imagine, I freaked out and frantically and desparately (and hopelessly, really) looked for this small ring in all that snow, in the dark. I was devestated. Eventually I had to give up looking and went to bring my things from the back entrance up to my apartment. And.. lo and behold, there was Paula's ring on the floor beside my suitcase.

To be honest, I wasn't that surprised. This isn't the first time this has happened. A few weeks ago, I had a similar frantic moment when I realized the ring had slipped off. After a desparate search around my surroundings, I eventually found the ring in my coat pocket a few minutes later.

In the summer, while I was camping with some friends, I suddenly realized that I was missing one of Paula's rings I used to wear on my other litle finger (a beautiful Irish claddagh ring that her parents gave her). We were on a sandy campsite and I had no idea when or where I had lost it. After a hopeless search of the campsite, I had to give up looking for it. I remember being quite distraught and giving this loss of her ring much meaning, somehow symbolic of losing another piece of her. However, two months later I was cleaning out the backpack that I use for Micah's diapers and things and found this same ring at the very bottom of one of the seldomly used pockets.

I started out wearing all her rings that the nurse gave me at the hospital, her Irish claddagh ring, her wedding band, and the engagement ring I gave her when I proposed. After "losing" the claddagh ring in the summer, I decided I didn't want to risk losing the engagement ring. (Plus, the diamond ring looked pretty silly on my finger). The engagement ring is set aside should Micah ever want to use it. But I could not bring myself to not wear her wedding band.

Until tonight. I really thought I had lost it for good this time. I can't take that chance anymore. The third time I doubt I will be so fortunate. This ring is something I need to keep. However, I am sad that I won't be wearing it anymore. Not wearing this ring is somehow another sign or symbol of having to let her go. It makes me incredibly sad. However, at least I am giving it up on my terms and keeping it safe rather than losing it for good, never to be seen again.