Emile

Today is Emile’s birthday. He was my stepson, the very beloved son of Michael. Emile died in October, 2014. His father, Michael died in February 2010. I will probably never know or understand what made Emile give up on life. His father died of a brain tumour. They were close, though not overly close. I doubt that it was heartbreak, but maybe it was.

This picture was taken at our wedding. Emile was there, and he returned not many months later for Michael’s funeral.

Normally June 16 goes by with a brief thought of Emile, wondering what happened. Why did he give? How was it that none of his closest friends had any idea that he was struggling? Was there anything I could have done, but didn’t know. Today there were many tears…I don’t know why.

Recently a family in London, Ontario (where Emile had lived with his mother and extended family) was killed by a young man who attacked them because they were Muslim. Emile’s extended family is also Muslim.

In October, 2014, I flew to London, Ontario to attend Emile’s funeral. I knew absolutely nothing about Muslim tradition, and expected behaviour at worship and at funerals. The taxi driver who drove me from the airport to the hotel, then again to the funeral was very kind, and answered my many questions. At the funeral I wore a head-scarf at the appropriate times, remembered to remove my shoes before entering the worship area, and encountered love that is not often experienced. Emile’s mom and I connected for the very first time. She was grieving, but wanted me to be near her. I haven’t had a chance to speak to her since the funeral, but the memory of that day will always be with me.

Growing up in a small town, in the Christian tradition, I was not exposed much to differences in belief systems. I lived in Thailand for 10 years, the wife of a Christian minister. During that time I was aware of Buddhist, Animist and Muslim religions, but did not take the time to really study them, or try to understand their beliefs. I knew many people who believed in each of those religions but never asked questions. The older I get, the more I realize that there is so much more to learn.

Emile’s birthday is a reminder to stay connected to those whom I love, and to stay open to differences. And to keep moving forward. It is too easy to get stuck kicking myself in the butt, wishing I had done things differently. I could have tried to phone Emile more frequently, or emailed regularly. But those thoughts serve no purpose now. The important thing now is to stay connected, keep in touch and accept differences.