Birthday Party!

The party was in full swing, the guest of honour making nice in the kitchen, when suddenly she appeared.

"I need to hug my boy right now," she whispered. "It's exactly one year ago that he was born …"

Levi.

Against all odds, we were gathered this day to celebrate his first birthday. The theme was Curious George, reflecting his genuine interest in everything around him.

His due date was January 20, 2018; his "adjusted age" says he is actually nine months.

He has undergone two major brain surgeries.

Three months in Neonatal Intensive Care.

Numerous trips to clinics and doctors offices.

Regular tests and measurements - of head circumference, of range of motion, of sight and hearing and strength and height and weight  until they all start blurring together.

Levi.

He has discovered water and the pleasures of swimming lessons and bathing in the kitchen sink.

He has developed a love of music, especially of percussion instruments.

He sits up, stands if he can hang on to the edge of something.

He chatters away, and he laughs. He has favourite stories.

Levi.

Courtesy of Auntie Rachel

He would rather eat apple sauce and sweet potatoes than birthday cake.

He truly engages with people with whom he comes into contact.

"Hi," he will say.

But across a crowded room, his eyes will search out his parents.

Levi.

Those four letters spell four words: EVIL, VILE, LEVI, LIVE.

It could have gone either way. But, like the song says, "God can make a way when there seems to be no way."

Levi knows.

He sings himself to sleep: "Way, way, way …"

His mother texted me the day after his birthday: "One of the most impactful things that was said to me in those early days was … that 'none of this is a surprise to God'. The Lord knew that was what my heart needed to hear in that moment and has helped me countless times over the year … God continues to be so faithful and kind." 

Thank you all for your love, your prayers, your kind thoughts and words and messages.

Thank you, Levi, for the many, many people your little life has already touched, for how you bring people together, how you point them to God's faithfulness.

Levi.

As the Good Rancher would say, "Ride 'em, little Wrangler …"

Sign made by his Uncle Allan.

He actually wore that tiny pea cap ...

Thanks Giving Day

Don called the Good Rancher on Friday: a few men were going to be slipping into a neighbour's corral and loading up her cattle, as quietly as possible. Hoping to do it on Monday. Was he in?

Oh yes.

Shooting for 11:30.

Done.

The Good Rancher has many, many admirable qualities; punctuality is not on that list. Nonetheless, on Monday morning he jumped into Henry the Ford, buckled up and sped to the destination.

He was there at 11:27.

It was -2 and the wind was starting to make its presence felt. Don and Lonnie were waiting for him, and they were joined in short order by Robert, Cliff, Rod, and Glen.

They paused for a moment and then in unison squared their shoulders, took a breath and stealthily made their way to the corral.

They didn't want to spook the cattle.

This was their Thanksgiving gift for their friend.

Everything had seemed a bit off-kilter since two Wednesdays earlier when Barry, good old Barry, had slid out of his chair and his spirit left this earth forever.

His funeral had been the following Wednesday. His cousin Jack officiated, bringing to life for us the young Barry he had known. His three beautiful all-grown-up nieces each gave us glimpses into this man who loved them, who treated children with whom he came into contact with special care and dignity. Following them, his friend Twila spoke - with a sentence or two from her three elder children, who were already missing their buddy.

As the final notes of the final song started to fade, Jack rose, walked over to Rosemary - the love of Barry's life - and gently hugged her. Two of the people closest to Barry, realising the great gap his absence would occupy, clung wordlessly to each other for a long moment.

Each person there to honour him that day would have had their own Barry story. He had a coffee route. He teased a lot, but it was never malicious. When he got something into his head to do, he would do it.

Gopher hunts.

Chopping wood.

Helping a neighbour.

 

Helping lots of neighbours.

 Making funny faces.

Stettler on Tuesdays with his Rose.

Thanksgiving with Jill and Les. 

One of my favourite Barry memories:

his and Rosemary's 45th anniversary supper

Observing the beavers at work on the lane leading to his house. Observing all the beauty - both extravagant and unobtrusive - this part of the country has to offer. 

No doubt this and much more was on these men's minds as they somberly took their stations and lifted their cattle sticks and got to work, sorting the calves from the cows, tagging the bulls, checking the pens.

Barry's three buddies were there as well, keeping an eye on things - the next generation, learning to love the land.

It was all completed in short order - all these men know their way around a corral! - and after a brief coffee break, they gathered to watch for Jim.

Jim, who left his family Thanksgiving dinner early in order to drive the herd to auction at Olds, trundled up slightly before the time he had said he would be there. 

Clearly, an unspoken code was at work. You might be late for your everyday stuff; for an occasion as weighted as this one, you put your best foot forward for your friend.







The road lurches a bit at the curve, and with the snow and slush, Jim's truck needed a bit of traction. Of course, the guys were one step ahead and the tractor was already running, the chain already prepared.

The animals loaded fairly smoothly - "a beautiful set of cows!" was the verdict. All of them know that a difference of a few cents a pound can make an awful lot of difference to the final payout. They were all relieved for Barry, happy for Rosemary.

The paperwork was done under Ivy's careful tutelage; Debbie was there, keeping the coffee coming, keeping the tears at bay. While the men were out working, the ladies had been recording each tiny detail - drawing brands, locating premises ID numbers, making sure there was no hitch at the receiving end.

And then everyone stood back as Jim climbed up into his truck again. 

Eyes blinked a little faster than usual. "Once you get going, don't stop!" called out Lonnie a bit hoarsely.

Jim headed down the hill; Cliff was already waiting in the tractor, just in case. Fortunately, the tractor's services were not needed again this day.

As the truck pulled out of sight, there was a bit of a general sigh.

"He was a good neighbour … 

"a good rancher … 

"a good friend …

"It was a good day."

It was another example of neighbours helping neighbours in the Byemoor and Endiang community.

It was Thanksgiving Day, 2018.