The Cathedral 

Was my safe nest

In the middle

Of that hard winter,

When all I’d worked for,

And wanted

Took flight

From my open hands.

I remember painting the walls

Of my new bedroom with mom.

Bright white.

In my last house I’d painted colour over white walls.

In this one, white was all I wanted.

White, blank space.

Symbolizing freedom.

Newness.

That room really felt like a nest.

It was so high and the sky so big above it.

I could peer down into the neighbour’s perfect yard below

And slowly watch her garden grow.

It’s a strange place to be

When you’re hurriedly, 

But needfully,

transplanted.

But this new, white place,

Had only new memories.

That’s exactly what I needed.

God knew.

And the safest person

Was there, with an open heart,

Ever loyal,

Through changing seasons.

And being with her,

My friend,

Was what made the Cathedral

Home….

Because home is not

A place.

It’s people.

Safe people.

How grateful I was

To watch her zz plant grow

There on the library table

Even through the coldest

And darkest of January mornings.

How grateful I was

For meals with a friend again,

Someone to come home to,

Movie nights,

Worship songs

Filling the piano room,

And spilling out the windows,

As soon as we could open them.

Hours spent

Reading in the sunshine

In the hammock.

I think it was the last time in my life

When I felt the least responsible

For where I lived.

I hadn’t felt that since I left my parents home. 

She took on all the “adult” work

Of bills and renovations and maintenance. 

I just paid a rent cheque

And chipped in with chores.

That was humbling at first.

Cause I had been so proud of my house,

before, and my adult life.

Of doing all the things. 

Being in charge.

But what was at first humbling,

Become restful.

It’s what helped make it my safe nest.

I was allowed to be dependent,

And at ease.

That spring,

My eagle arrived,

Much to everyone’s surprise,

Including mine.

I remember the chilly spring day 

I came home breathless,

And late, very late,

For supper,

And excited,

Babbling to Aimee about

The artwork Kevin and I 

Were doing on the school windows.

She knew right from that moment.

It began.

It was on her piano bench,

Sitting side by side,

With the dusk June light pouring in

The windows around us

That he and I

Voiced the words that

Maybe we’d give this a try.

It was that summer that

We welcomed our third friend

To the Cathedral.

Christianne.

And the kitchen began to smell

Like Japanese Village 

On steroids.

And the three of us

Would walk down to the Ice Hut

For ice cream in our flip flops,

And ride down the trails

Alongside the wheat fields,

And holler hello’s

From the balcony

To Christianne’s nieces 

As they biked down the street,

And we’d stay up late

Lost in conversation 

And it felt like we moved from

Roommates,

To family.

We’d pack the house

With friends

And friends of friends

And hoot and holler

Over ridiculous games 

And eat way too much.

We decorated for Christmas,

Aimee-style, and did facial masks

And opened stockings

Christmas morning.

Aimee got her masters

And poured over the books,

And then enlightened us with

Deep discussions over dinner

About leadership,

And education

And society

And we wrestled together with what it looked like

to be Jesus followers

in it all.

I loved Saturday mornings,

Cause it was sunny in my room

And I’d listen to a podcast

And clean the little nest

I was so grateful for. 

Then I’d go downstairs

And Aimee would be reading her Bible

And drinking coffee 

And looking out the window

And Christianne would be

Making hash,

With avocados,

 for breakfast.

It was from that house

I left for the hot desert

In the dead of winter,

With my man

For a week.

I returned to the Cathedral,

To no one’s surprise,

Engaged and walking on air.

For 3 delightful weeks

I rode that wave of euphoria

And delved into wedding planning

With my dear roomies

By my side.

But then it all came

To a screeching halt,

The day we chose my dress,

And the highways were empty at 5 pm

And toilet paper was suddenly scarce.

Then we spent the spring,

In a weird limbo place,

Of faith and fear.

Aimee worked from home

In the piano room.

Missy, the green eyed,

Curly haired puppy, joined us,

And peed on the floor

And made us laugh.

The fridge died and 

We covered it with graffiti

To remind ourselves of the truth,

And we combed through

Every online dress shopping website

Known to woman

To find bridesmaids dresses

And create online wedding registries

When stores were closed.

I’d spend my Saturdays, 

Helping Kevin paint his house,

Soon to be our house.
We were painting it all white.

Newness. Freedom.

White.

I’d be so happy to return,

Paint smattered and tired,

To the Cathedral,

To order,

And a place for everything,

And rest.

Spring did finally come,

Despite worldly chaos.

I walked in the graveyard

And sang with the robins

as the green grass appeared.

Then the amazon boxes arrived

And piled in the piano room.

Christianne wrapped each one in white

With pretty bows.

The wedding guest list was trimmed,

Extensively.

I remember crying in the white hammock

With Dani on the phone,

Lamenting that we wouldn’t have

The weddings we always

Dreamed of.

But the Cathedral,

And God,

Held us.

The secrets

And joys

Of wedding-ness

Still seeped in

All over the place

That June.

Covid could not 

Keep us down.

My unfailing roomies

Threw the best wedding shower

I could have dreamed of.

Kevin and I stocked his

Freshly floored living room

With more wedding gifts

Then he imagined could be given.

We got through online teaching,

And left our laptops behind,

For summer again,

Round the fire at the cabin,

On the boat with the sky above,

And then home again

To running water

And the wedding whiteboard,

Each day’s to-do’s checked off

One summer day at a time.

Packing tape kept me in business

Upstairs in my nest,

Tucking away all my things,

Cause I was going to leave 

The Cathedral.

The heavy boxes and furniture

Piled high in Dad’s truck,

And my nest was empty but for 

A mattress on the floor

And a suitcase in the closet.

In that bare, white, sunny room,

My safe nest from the storm,

I donned the wedding dress of my dreams.

We drank sparkling cider in wine glasses 

And ate dainty breakfast finger food

While Chantal, from across the street,

Did our make up

And Steph did our hair,

And mom tied my bouquet together,

All there in the Cathedral’s sunny kitchen.

Then the pictures were taken,

And the wind blew us across the street and 

We were off to the wedding.

And I left the Cathedral

behind.

I can quickly go back

To 5 pm on a Wednesday in September,

coming home from work

tired, but fulfilled,

adding my used containers to Aimee’s 

in the sink,

breathing in the smell of the BBQ,

hearing Christianne set timers on her phone,

sitting down round the table,

singing the Doxology as our blessing over the meal,

Aimee harmonizing of course,

and then sharing our hearts,

unloading our cares,

laughing at our BEST parts of the day,

and taking turns doing dishes afterwards

to loud, fun music

or a hilarious sitcom in the background.

Now-a-days,

The Cathedral is no longer in order.

Boxes pile up,

And soon trucks will be filled

And my former roomies

Will be taking the adventure

That comes to them

beyond this wee town.

God, I am ever grateful

That Aimee bought that house,

Back then,

And invited me in

When I needed it most,

And that Christie joined us,

And our memories were,

Each day,

So rich and full.

It’s always hardest

For me to say goodbye

To places

Where my memories

Are held.

But come to think of it,

Memories aren’t within four walls,

But within our minds.

And there are so much more

To come.

Goodbye, Cathedral.

How well we lived in you.

How deep we grew in you.

And Praise God, 

from whom

All blessings flow.