I think of Nadiene

... the sunrise after Nadiene's passing ...

I am sure I slept last night, but in those fitful moments when a person turns in bed or opens their eyes to check if it is light yet, those are the times my mind was filled with Nadiene. I seemed to be remembering her at the Shuswap. When it was finally light, I got out of bed to take a picture of the sunrise.

Nadiene and Molly seemed to be the great-grandmother version of Thelma and Louise -- piling in a car together and then off on a road trip. Nothing could stop them. That they might be babysitting their grandchildren was no impediment. The kids were buckled into the back seat with snacks, the motor was turned on and off they would go – destination: Taber, Lethbridge? If they were alone they might end up in Vancouver, or Salt Lake.

I am not even aware if they ever left a note on the kitchen table to say where they were going. Totally independent women,  only to the chagrin of their more cautious loved ones.

On one such trip they dropped in at the Shuswap – which was lucky for me. That others thought they should take it easy, rest more, be more cautious ... that didn’t matter to them. Many of us can sing the old song “Sisters, sisters there were never such devoted sisters....”. Those were two women who lived the song. I can’t believe they ever got mad at each other. If there was a hurt between them, the depth of their commitment to each other made it possible for them to wash over tension – only stronger bonds seemed to be forged between the two of them.

 ... Nadiene's sunrise as reflected in the deck railing and in my heart ...

On the visit I remember, they walked on the land and then returned for dinner.

“What is in the salad?”, one asked. I told her. The other said, “It would taste better with a little onion in it.”

“I don’t have any green onions,” I replied. "I have some chives growing in my flowerbed outside."

“Oh, yes, let’s not serve dinner until we put some of those in.” 

Now years later, when I am making a salad, I go to the same chive bush, and I remember that if they were joining us for dinner the salad would be just right.

It is not just in the fitful turns of sleep at night that I think of Nadiene, but it is also during the days and weeks of living that she and her sister Molly have come to my mind.


Arta