Not sure if they’ll upload it or not but if they do, I’ll replace this clip with the slideshow they showed at my cousin’s funeral on Saturday…

A few years ago, someone I know lost her younger sibling unexpectedly. I can’t remember how old he was but maybe mid-20s?
In her grief, she approached me and said “You’re an atheist, right? How do you deal with loss without believing in God?”
It was a tough question – not because I didn’t know my answer but because I found it hard to articulate that answer succinctly (I’m not the only atheist who’s struggled with this) without going into all of the books I’ve read about the subject (on both sides of the debate), the late night conversations with numerous friends, and my own deep thinking on the subject.
My difficulty was compounded as I sensed that she was groping for answers and maybe even questioning her faith in god (which I think is very common in times of loss.) And contrary to what you might think atheists try to do, I also didn’t want to try to “convert” her in her moment of weakness – just to have her understand my own reasoning, especially since she asked.
(Quick note – it goes without saying that being an atheist doesn’t somehow prevent you from feeling the various stages of grief or wishing someone wasn’t gone or believing that life can be tragically unfair.)
And that unfairness is what I was thinking of as I told her that the old “Why does god let bad things happen to good people?” question is a big part of my answer. If you don’t believe in god, it’s easier to understand that the terrible things that happen without relying on nebulous “God has a reason” or “He’s testing you” answers that are really non-answers.
If you don’t believe in god, it’s easier to understand that all the bad things that take people’s lives – from cancer to car accidents to cyclones – are (for the most part) random and uncontrollable. To put it another way, a child dying of cancer is probably one of the best proofs of the non-existence of a benevolent god that I can think of.
As we talked, she went on to ask not only how I dealt with loss generally but specifically how I could deal with my grief of losing someone close to me if I a) didn’t believe a lost loved one was in Heaven or b) that we would be reunited someday.
There are a few things that I believe that make it easier to deal with loss, even though I don’t believe in an afterlife…
* From a scientific point of view, I think the miracle that any of us are here at all is amazing (1 in 400 Trillion by one estimate) and any amount of life we get to enjoy – whether 20 or 40 or 80 years – is a blessing (I’m using “miracle” and “blessing” in the non-religious sense of those words!) 😉 In fact, arguably the fact that atheists don’t believe in an afterlife should make them appreciate their time on earth even more.
* I touched on it fairly directly in my eulogy for my Grandma Peet – for some atheists, Heaven isn’t some fantastical place in the sky, it’s a place in your heart where you live with the memories and knowledge and values that the deceased person has given you so they live on through you.
* If you’re fortunate enough to have children, that’s a form of immortality that not only carries forward but stretches back, not just through all your nearest ancestors but right back to the earliest lifeforms that aged and evolved through various permutations – always living long enough to at least reproduce and carry their genes forward – eventually reaching you and then on to your children.
* This is fairly blunt but the only reality is that we’re all gonna die someday (not even taxes are certain – if you live in certain jurisdictions or have a certain level of wealth especially!) so being able to accept that fact makes dealing with death when it happens easier. If you’re religious and believe in miracles and the many fantastical stories of the Bible (resurrection!), I always feel like that makes people more likely to think that death just might not happen to them.
* Also blunt but science always makes one realise that in the grand scheme of life on earth (and the entire history of life on earth), we’re not that special. We like to think we are because we’re all the star of our own story but thousands of people die every single day. And the lives we lead – though important in the very micro sense to our families and our employers – are ultimately fairly meaningless. Most of us aren’t great scientists or artists or world changing political leaders. Instead, whether we’re doctors or clerks at the Dollar Store, we go through life, working, eating sleeping, maybe going on the occasional holiday but ultimately, not leaving much behind to even let the world know we were here.
Here’s a good excerpt of an article that helps put it all in perspective…
Because the existence of you here now on planet earth presupposes another supremely unlikely and utterly undeniable chain of events. Namely, that every one of your ancestors lived to reproductive age — going all the way back not just to the first Homo sapiens, first Homo erectus and Homo habilis, but all the way back to the first single-celled organism. You are a representative of an unbroken lineage of life going back 4 billion years.
Let’s not get carried away here; we’ll just deal with the human lineage. Say humans or humanoids have been around for about 3 million years, and that a generation is about 20 years. That’s 150,000 generations. Say that over the course of all human existence, the likelihood of any one human offspring to survive childhood and live to reproductive age and have at least one kid is 50:50 — one in two. Then what would be the chance of your particular lineage to have remained unbroken for 150,000 generations?
Well then, that would be one in 2150,000 , which is about one in 1045,000 — a number so staggeringly large that my head hurts just writing it down. That number is not just larger than all of the particles in the universe — it’s larger than all the particles in the universe if each particle were itself a universe. – Huff Post
Did an eight-hour round trip from Weyburn to Warman, SK for my cousin’s funeral on Saturday and was very glad I did – not just to be there to celebrate the life of my cousin of course but also because the sad reality is that often, its only weddings, milestone birthdays and funerals where you have the opportunity to see relatives you might not otherwise see regularly.
Once again, our summer camping means I’m less likely to keep my daily posts streak going but more likely to feel guilty when we get back from the weekend.
I didn’t do it last weekend but I’ll post a few quick “catch-up” posts for the last few days because I know my readership is disappointed if they don’t get this high quality content such as this end-of-year video made by the teachers at Pace’s school…
While camping a couple summers ago, we got word that, after years battling a variety of health issues, one of my dad’s ten siblings had started to fail and passed away soon after.
Considering that dad was from a family of ten kids and all of his siblings had managed to reach their late 60s, 70’s and even their 80’s, as sad as her passing was, I thought that was (and continues to be) a pretty amazing demonstration of genetic longevity.
Although we were obviously much younger than all our respective parents, I thought it was also fortunate that, of the ~30 or so cousins I had from those 10 aunts and uncles, we’d only lost one up to that point.
But then, only a couple short months after my Aunt Verna died, we got word that one of her sons had been diagnosed with cancer.
Having grown up in Indian Head where my grandma lived, I was extremely fortunate to get to spend time with most of my cousins when they came to visit in a way that perhaps the cousins who lived in Vancouver might not know the cousins in Calgary might not know the cousins in Saskatoon might not know the cousins in Winnipeg and so on.
That meant I had a lot of “favourite” cousins but Verna’s son, Curtis was always one of my “favourite favourites” if that makes sense.
In terms of personal interests, we were very different – he loved hunting, fishing, he worked at a brick factory in Estevan and as a pipe fitter in Fort McMurray. In all honesty, even as a Saskatoon-born and raised “city” kid, he probably loved farming more than I did. 😉
But in terms of personalities, we shared a lot. Generosity. Kindness. Empathy. Humour. And with Curtis being only seven years older than me, I looked up to him immensely.
I remember when I was working around rural Saskatchewan as a summer job during college. I was going to be working in some towns around Saskatoon so tracked Curtis down to ask if I could stay with him and his then-girlfriend, now wife, Tracy which would allow me to pocket my per diem.
He said, “Sure, no problem” without hesitation and when I tried to offer him some of money, he said “No, of course not. What is family for?”
At the end of my time staying with them, I left a bottle of booze as a thank-you for when he got home from work and I later got a phone call from an uncharacteristically angry sounding Curt.
“I just wanted to thank-you…I’m sorry if you didn’t want it,” I sputtered.
“No, I’m not mad about that!” he said. “The next time you buy a bottle, you make sure you’re able to be around to drink it with me!” Then he started laughing.
I mentioned that Curt worked in Estevan and that’s another fond memory – going down to visit with my parents who I think stayed in his bed in his small bachelor apartment while he slept on the couch and my sister and I slept on the floor.
I was awoken being licked by one of the many pitbulls Curtis owned over the years. One other highlight of that visit – reading major heavy metal fan Curt’s copies of Circus magazine and being exposed to stories and photos that many wouldn’t normally let a kid my age read (could you say that a hard-working labourer helped influence my decision to become an anti-censorship librarian? Probably!)
Only a couple months ago, I posted a picture of myself in goalie equipment as part of a post about the Humboldt Broncos tragedy.
What I didn’t mention in that post was that the goalie equipment belonged to my cousin Curtis and the picture was taken when my family stayed with his family during a visit in Saskatoon.
As with all my cousins, I have so many fond memories of Curtis (or Cur-tay-us as my dad always called him) – funny, touching, embarrassing.
Cancer fucking sucks. It fucking sucks. It fucking fucking sucks.
And I especially hate anytime that it means a parent outlives his children (my aunt Verna didn’t but Curt’s dad did) or that younger children are left without a parent, both of which are the case now that Curtis has passed.
I also mentioned the size of our family and our relative longevity in both the aunts and uncles and (knock on wood) the cousins. Which makes the fact that so much loss has occurred within one single branch of the family tree, in such a relatively small period of time, especially tragic.
I honestly don’t know what else to say so I think I’ll just leave it at that.
My Love,
Dusk. We're in position overlooking MAGA camp. I see their sentries' red hats in the dim light of their tiki torches and it steels my nerves. At midnight, we strike. May our battlecry, "Happy Holidays," strike fear.Send Kale.
– Matthew#secondcivilwarletters
— D-Fo (@ThisIsDFo) July 4, 2018
It’s quite clear that the increased polarization between liberal blue and conservative red states in the US has escalated, especially since Donald Trump was elected.
Some are even speculating that this could lead to a second American civil war (or that we’re already in one that’s more of a “Civil Cold War“.)
Fortunately, Twitter is on the case with a perfectly timed #hashtag on American Independence Day which features tweets written as modern equivalents of the formal diction contained in those well-written letters of yore.
https://twitter.com/kennLA/status/1014595917222109185
…but our entry in the “Decorate for Canada Day” contest at Nickle Lake actually inspired the judges to add and award a second place prize (hat *and* t-shirt, baby!) after they couldn’t decide between ours and the people who ended up winning first place (folding chair *and* folding table).
A couple subtle notes about our display…
* red and white lights wrapped around the tree on the left
* Sasha’s Paw Patrol chair behind the table (show invented in Canada)
* hockey, lacrosse and basketball in front of van make sense but golf? Well, if you label it with “Graham DeLaet – Canada’s Greatest Golfer” as a blatant suck-up to Weyburn area judges!
Oh, and most common question from people walking by our site? “Are you a teacher?” 🙂 (I not only had an array of Canada-themed books *and* a tri-fold display but also a “Name The Famous Canadian” quiz.)
And finally, I think the big reason we didn’t take first place? I completely forgot my secret weapon – I was planning to blast Stompin’ Tom Connors when the judges came by!
“CA-NA-DA (Cross Canada)” – Stomping Tom Connors w/ kd lang
From Colbert (with bonus mention of Saskatchewan!)
Late night comedians are having a lot of fun with my home province actually (ffwd to 3:00 minute mark)…
From my personal journal, February 11, 2000:
Settle in to bed (well, a sleeping bag under a cafeteria table) about midnight. Oh, when we get back from grabbing our sleeping bags, I offer to bring a coffee to the security guard and end up having a big talk with him – about how he got the job (military history), his experience on “both sides of the picket line if you know what I mean”, the thin line between legal protest and breaking the law, a bit about the history that has given us our current protocols (sgt-at-arms, etc.) Up today at 7:30am and Shea’s parents buy me breakfast (we’re in a cafeteria after all!) then basically just hang out people watching while Shea does her homework. One reporter comes over and interviews Shea for the radio – I think he was putting a spin on “kids skipping school for this protest” story and was surprised when Shea said she was in 3rd year university.
People are starting to draw comparisons between the farmer-led protests that occurred in February 2000 at the Saskatchewan Legislature and the current Indigenous-led protests that have seen “Justice for Our Stolen Children” supporters occupying the Legislative grounds for over 100 days.
There are lots of similarities…
* both protests involved a group of citizens coming together to pressure the provincial government to take action on urgent matters
* in each situation, there was a feeling that there is a lack of government response to each group’s respective requests for assistance or even meetings to explain their position (to be fair, the current government is having a meeting on July 2 with the “Justice For Our Stolen Children” group and I think that there may have been at least some cursory meetings between government and farmers during the 2000 protests.)
* both use(d) well-known symbols of their group in their protests – for the farmers, it was farm equipment and pickup trucks and for the Indigenous group, it is tipis and sacred fires.
* I can’t decide whether to list this as a similarity or a difference but during the farm protests, it was an NDP government that was seen as being less-than-responsive and during the current protests, it’s a Sask Party government that’s seen as being less-than-responsive (interestingly, this may be in part because the NDP was already losing rural areas to the Reform Party and the relatively new Sask Party in 2000 and similarly today, the Sask Party doesn’t see First Nations people as part of their “base”.)
…but there are also differences:
* The Camp For Our Stolen Children protesters have been active for 100+ days (since soon after the Colten Boushie verdict) while the farm protests lasted maybe only a week or two?
* When outside protests didn’t get results, the farm protesters spent part of their time occupying the actual Legislative Building, camping out in the cafeteria for a few days (as referenced above, this group included Shea and myself who spent a night there with her parents who were active in the farm protest movement to the level that her dad had the opportunity to speak to a Standing Committee on Agriculture that met in Regina during the crisis.)
* The farm protesters were more aggressive, burning effigies of politicians and chaining the doors of the Legislature shut at one point whereas the worst thing the First Nations protesters have done (as far as I know) is killing some grass and breaking some bylaws around “erecting structures” and having campfires in the park.
* The farm protesters were evicted after a threat was received (I can’t remember if it was a threat against the farmers or if it was a frustrated farmer directing a threat towards a politician?) I also can’t remember if police were involved in the eviction of the farmers or if the farmers left willingly but the police were definitely involved the first time the “Camp for Our Stolen Children” group were evicted – even though they’d been on the Legislative grounds for over three months at that point and even though arguably the farmers were both more aggressive and more blatantly trespassing (sleeping inside the Legislature rather than on the grounds outside.)
* Social media is obviously more of a factor this time around with people sharing opinions, photos, news stories and more on Facebook, Twitter, Reddit and even on the occasional blog! 😉
* Even though they’ve been completely peaceful so far, it’s probably fair to say that the “Camp for Our Stolen Children” is more polarizing, given Saskatchewan’s history of racism and that First Nations people are perceived more negatively than farmers. (To put it another way, in 2000, I don’t remember anyone questioning how farmers were able to take time off to protest or sleep in the Legislature. But that’s a constant charge against the “Camp For Our Stolen Children” protesters, implying all the protesters are unemployed rather than the truth that it’s a mix of unemployed, self-employed, retired people and/or people who have traditional 9-5 jobs but choose to be at the camp when they’re not at work.
* obviously there is a whole different aspect to the politics of protest when its farmers protesting against the government, mainly calling for economic support versus when its Indigenous people who are protesting about a variety of inter-connected issues, but all linked by a failure of the government to recognize treaty obligations/respond positively to the 94 Calls To Action of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission.
I guess another similarity is that I got to be a (small) part of each protest – as I mentioned, Shea and I spent a night occupying the Legislature in 2000 along with her mom, dad, and uncle.
Then, earlier this week, we stopped by the “Justice For Our Stolen Children” camp to talk to a few of the people there. Shea was heading out of town today so she stopped by again, this time with her parents to drop off some food and other donations for the camp.
And I guess is there’s one takeaway from all of this – that’s the biggest one for me (and hopefully for anyone reading this as well.)
Because for all the similarities and differences between the two protests, and given the fact that it was the shooting of an Aboriginal youth by a farmer that triggered the current protest, I think the fact that a (now retired) farmer like my father-in-law would make a point to stop and visit the camp and show his support, nearly two decades after his own protest, says a lot about the importance of all citizens’ right to protest, the importance of solidarity, and the importance of not letting the most powerful and/or most vocal in our society divide us and pit us against one another – young vs. old, legitimate vs. illegitimate protesters, First Nations vs. farmers and other false dichotomies.
[Edit: Murray Mandryk of the Leader Post shared an old column of his on Twitter today that clarifies a couple points…
* The farm protesters were removed by police as well (in the middle of the night to boot!)
* He also touches on another similarity that I didn’t mention – both protests are being accused of not having clear goals/defined resolutions. I’m not so sure this is a legitimate criticism though as I think part of the point of any protest is to raise awareness and set the foundation for future changes that do meet specific goals/result in desired outcomes. Even this Reddit poster, while saying they’re against the protests but open to changing their mind, is proving the point just by being willing to discuss the issue and showing they want to learn more in a good faith manner.
* Like my own memory, Mandryk confirms that it was unclear whether the threat that was received was targeted at the farm protesters or a politician.
* I sort of alluded to this but another difference is what you might call “awareness” which applies in a couple ways – I think some of the actions of the farmers (burning effigies, chaining doors) might be taken more seriously today than in the past and I also think that today, society in general is more aware of First Nations issues and history than they would’ve been, even at the turn of the century, and that in turn has led to much more support – with positive, supportive comments on social media greatly outweighing negative/trolling/racist comments to even the Mayor of Regina defending the right to protest in a democratic society.