By inference then, you should know that Cerene has worked at
Surrey Place for a damn long time. You should also know that Cerene may be many
things, but she is definitely not serene; and lastly, you should know that Cerene
was diagnosed, out of the clear blue, with 4th stage cancer just
over a month ago. And so, last Friday, that
one word – retirement – was heavy with meanings and emotions that are not usual
to it.
Some of us lined the hall leading to the room, waiting in
anticipation, as one would for a dignitary.
Others, sat in the meeting room designated for the occasion,
waiting. I expected to hear sadness, to
hear a few words spoken by the guest of honour about beginnings and endings,
chapters and turnings, sadness tinged with hope for the new things to come, talk
of bitter-sweetness and doors opening-closing. I expected someone would remind everyone how
wonderful it has been to work with Cerene, how lucky we have been, what a fount
of knowledge or pillar of strength she was and will be. How those strengths can now be directed into
activities of family, community and in pursuit of interests, perhaps, put aside
for decades.
Apparently, Cerene had not seen that memo or read the script;
Or if she had, she must have promptly burned one, the other, or both.
As soon as she made her entrance, Cerene jumped
into the deep end of Dolly Parton’s, “Eagle When She Flies,” a song played at her party, by her own request. Nothing was
as expected. She was not as much singing
the lyrics as she spoke them with a depth that was confusing then
discomforting. What to make of this
woman that we knew and didn’t know and were about to get to know?
Cerene came to celebrate, to laugh, to reminisce, to scold, to
humble, to humour, to cry, to make us cry, to teach and to preach. Cerene taught us that it’s okay to be fully
yourself with no apologies. She came to
show that dressing to the nines – black gown, gold high-heeled shoes and hair
done – is okay even at 9:30 in the morning.
Just because.
She said, ‘remember, employees are people and not just numbers;
that changes in our work place are a chance to re-tool, transform and most of
all, to be bold.’ I heard, ‘move forward,’
as she is doing, with eyes wide open, even with trepidation, but hopeful; above
all, hopeful. By action: do not be
afraid to show, not share, just show, your faith; and reveal something of
yourself because it gives others permission to also be fully themselves.
And then, she danced!
A song solely chosen by her, for her.
Some clapped along, some cried and Cerene, with eyes closed and hands
raised high, praised God and showed us what fortitude and forbearance and just
plain not-giving-a-damn-‘cause-life-is-too-short, looked like. Life affirmed.
Out of breath, she sat, and it was clear that the cancer has
indeed taken its toll. Not plainly seen,
not yet anyways, it still made itself manifest.
There was no time for chit-chat and small words. Cerene needed to leave; nurse’s orders.
She asked someone to cue up a song, her extro music. She left the room as she had entered, on her
own terms, by her command. She left us
all to finally get back on-script with our cheese and crackers. And she did the one thing no number of team
building exercises have ever done, she brought us all closer together.
And the lyrics of that Dolly Parton song?
Her
heart's as soft as feathers
Still she weathers stormy skies
And she's a sparrow when she's broken
But she's an eagle when she flies
Still she weathers stormy skies
And she's a sparrow when she's broken
But she's an eagle when she flies
5 comments:
Damn. This was beautiful. I'm sad I missed it. Thanks for capturing it in words, even a little.
Thanks for dropping by Ana.
Wow. You captured all the beautifully. Thanks for sharing Zap, I feel like I was there. Valerie T
Thanks Val!
well said, Zap. Sensitive and astute. I am in Nova Scotia now and had no idea about Cerene, and we worked at SPC for decades together. Thank you for acknowledging her.
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