Story:It is with a heavy heart that I started with the Observer on Monday. Now, normally one would think that a goodbye column would start off that way, not necessarily an introductory one. But as I sit down to write this article, this is where I am at.
Now don't get me wrong. I am very excited to be working at the Observer. My boyfriend and I moved here in September when he was offered a position at the high school. I come with a degree in Geography and Rural Development, and am awaiting defence of my Masters thesis this August. So the thought of being able to write about rural communities and their functions is something that I am passionate about, and very excited about.
When the position at the Observer became available, I thought this would be a really interesting and enjoyable opportunity. You see, I have spent the past seven years of my life writing about rural development and rural communities. Just in a different way. In an academic way, a research way and a presentation at conferences type of way. But in lots of ways, that type of writing focuses on the statistical facts of the situation, and disregards the small town 'feeling' or 'story' that makes rural communities rural communities.
So, if I am excited about my position at the Observer, why the heavy heart you ask? The weekend before I started at the Observer I spent at the hospital with my dying grandfather. On Sunday at 12 p.m., we lost an amazing member of our family. On Monday at 9 a.m., I started at the Observer.
Now, I've debated back and forth about whether or not to discuss this in my opening column or to leave the message until everyone gets a chance to know me first. But I have never been one to shy away from an awkward or uncomfortable situation and when it comes down to it, I believe in saying what you feel and being who you are. I value openness and honesty, even in the toughest situations, as I believe it can help others in difficult situations.
Before I go on, I must make clear that this column is not about death or grieving. At 28-years-old, I am fortunate to say that this is the first loss I have experienced of an immediate family member as an adult. This process has been more peaceful than I could have ever imagined it could be. My grandfather passed away surrounded by family, slipping peacefully into a forever kind of sleep. It was the kind of passing that you would hope for, for someone that means so much to you.
The reason for this column is to raise awareness. You see, I decided to go ahead with this topic because while I was buying groceries this weekend, I looked up and saw yellow daffodils. We wore those exact daffodils to my grandfather's funeral, or rather to the celebration of his life.
About 11 years ago, my grandfather was diagnosed with prostate cancer. Years later, the cancer spread and essentially took over his body. Thanks to my grandfather's willingness to be tested for prostate cancer and early treatment, we were lucky enough to have him in our lives for those 11 years.
Looking up at the daffodils, my first thought was that we go through life seeing daffodils, pink ribbons, moustaches in 'Mo'vember, yellow ribbons, and we pass them by. Sometimes we donate, sometimes we do not, but rarely do we ever really stop and think about the cause. That is, until it happens to you, or someone you love.
From March 20, 2011 on, every time I see a yellow daffodil, I will be reminded of what a great man was lost because of a horrible disease, a disease that we do not have a cure for. The Canadian Cancer Society states that every three minutes, someone in Canada is diagnosed with cancer.
So with the Canadian Cancer Society kicking off Daffodil month in April, I urge you to take a moment to give these causes some thought. I am not saying to donate to this cause or that cause or any cause in particular.
What I am saying is that we each need to find our own cause. Whether that be cancer or diabetes or Alzheimer's or suffering children within our community or overseas.
And we need to take action and do something about it. Whether that be skipping your morning coffee and donating money to your cause, volunteering an hour or two to your cause, or visiting someone affected by your cause. Find YOUR cause and find some way to contribute to it in whatever capacity you can. If we all do a little, we get a long way.
