St. June
Early on the morning of Saturday April 14th, June Callwood, Known as “The Conscience of Canada”, Died.
My introduction to June Callwood was through one of her 30 books “Twelve Weeks in Spring” Twelve Weeks in Spring is a moving account of the formation of the founding care team that eventually grew in to Hospice Toronto.
As well as thirty books, June wrote 1500 magazine articles and 450 news paper articles. But she was best known for her activism. She founded Casey House, one of the first AIDS Hospices in the world, Jessie's Centre for Teenagers, Digger House, Nellie's hostel for abused women, PEN Canada, the Canadian Civil Liberties Foundation, and Feminists Against Censorship. She was awarded numerous honours, including more than 15 honorary doctorates, the Order of Canada, Officer, the Order of Ontario , the Canadian News Hall of Fame and the Toronto Arts Foundation Lifetime Achievement Award.
On Tuesday April 17th I joined some 1000 others in a candle lit procession from Jessie’s Center to Casey House.
I was saddened and thoughtful as I walked, holding my little lantern in my hand. I had always wanted to meet June Callwood. It wasn’t just the loss of a cultural icon that saddened me that night, Junes death was a symbol of endings of other sorts.
It struck me, as I walked, with a profound sense of finality that I have left behind a carrier. I will not earn my living doing in any form of social work. And while I am glad that I have made the choices that I have, and I am thrilled about my prospects with school and massage, I would have been damn good as a Volunteer Manager, or as a Client Services Coordinator. That boat has sailed.
The other thing that struck me is that emotionally I have left Hospice Toronto. I just have to make it formal by sending in a letter of resignation. For the longest time I thought that I was being too fussy about the way that the hospice has treated me, but I had a conversation with Pete Bevin that changed my mind. I told Pete about my experiences, how I felt, and the fact that I was thinking very seriously about leaving. I half expected Pete, whom received a great deal of support from the hospice when his wife was dieing, and subsequently became a volunteer him self, would tell me to hang in and stick it out.
He didn’t.
Pete told me that he agreed with me and he felt that something fundamental about the hospice had changed.
It wasn’t the same place any more.
I am hesitating to write that letter of resignation. Not because I don’t want to leave the hospice or I am afraid to express my opinion, (Quite the opposite I hope that by telling the hospice how I feel that hopefully some change my come about.)
I am hesitating because I have a client, a sweet 63 year old lady who is very slowly dieing of esophageal cancer. She really doesn’t need me around but she is lonely and I can see that I fill a void in her life right now. I may resign from the hospice but keep the client.
Sigh
On Wednesday I went to St Michael’s Catholic Church. I’m not a Christian, and certainly not a catholic, but Catholic Churches hold a certain air of reverence, ritual, (dare I say), Holiness. I can’t stand mass, because I fundamentally disagree with so many of the core edicts of Catholicism. But I like Catholic churches. The lingering smell of incense, flickering candles, the quiet, and the soft murmur of voices in personal prayer. I found a shrine to Saint Jude, patron saint of lost causes and lit a candle for June Callwood, Social Activist, champion of AIDS sufferers, pregnant teenagers, homeless children, abused women and so many other “Hopeless Causes”.
I sat in a pew, and meditated on my candle as it flickered to life. I never met June Callwood, and never knew her, but I am glad to have known of her.
Thank you, Saint June.
My introduction to June Callwood was through one of her 30 books “Twelve Weeks in Spring” Twelve Weeks in Spring is a moving account of the formation of the founding care team that eventually grew in to Hospice Toronto.
As well as thirty books, June wrote 1500 magazine articles and 450 news paper articles. But she was best known for her activism. She founded Casey House, one of the first AIDS Hospices in the world, Jessie's Centre for Teenagers, Digger House, Nellie's hostel for abused women, PEN Canada, the Canadian Civil Liberties Foundation, and Feminists Against Censorship. She was awarded numerous honours, including more than 15 honorary doctorates, the Order of Canada, Officer, the Order of Ontario , the Canadian News Hall of Fame and the Toronto Arts Foundation Lifetime Achievement Award.
On Tuesday April 17th I joined some 1000 others in a candle lit procession from Jessie’s Center to Casey House.
I was saddened and thoughtful as I walked, holding my little lantern in my hand. I had always wanted to meet June Callwood. It wasn’t just the loss of a cultural icon that saddened me that night, Junes death was a symbol of endings of other sorts.
It struck me, as I walked, with a profound sense of finality that I have left behind a carrier. I will not earn my living doing in any form of social work. And while I am glad that I have made the choices that I have, and I am thrilled about my prospects with school and massage, I would have been damn good as a Volunteer Manager, or as a Client Services Coordinator. That boat has sailed.
The other thing that struck me is that emotionally I have left Hospice Toronto. I just have to make it formal by sending in a letter of resignation. For the longest time I thought that I was being too fussy about the way that the hospice has treated me, but I had a conversation with Pete Bevin that changed my mind. I told Pete about my experiences, how I felt, and the fact that I was thinking very seriously about leaving. I half expected Pete, whom received a great deal of support from the hospice when his wife was dieing, and subsequently became a volunteer him self, would tell me to hang in and stick it out.
He didn’t.
Pete told me that he agreed with me and he felt that something fundamental about the hospice had changed.
It wasn’t the same place any more.
I am hesitating to write that letter of resignation. Not because I don’t want to leave the hospice or I am afraid to express my opinion, (Quite the opposite I hope that by telling the hospice how I feel that hopefully some change my come about.)
I am hesitating because I have a client, a sweet 63 year old lady who is very slowly dieing of esophageal cancer. She really doesn’t need me around but she is lonely and I can see that I fill a void in her life right now. I may resign from the hospice but keep the client.
Sigh
On Wednesday I went to St Michael’s Catholic Church. I’m not a Christian, and certainly not a catholic, but Catholic Churches hold a certain air of reverence, ritual, (dare I say), Holiness. I can’t stand mass, because I fundamentally disagree with so many of the core edicts of Catholicism. But I like Catholic churches. The lingering smell of incense, flickering candles, the quiet, and the soft murmur of voices in personal prayer. I found a shrine to Saint Jude, patron saint of lost causes and lit a candle for June Callwood, Social Activist, champion of AIDS sufferers, pregnant teenagers, homeless children, abused women and so many other “Hopeless Causes”.
I sat in a pew, and meditated on my candle as it flickered to life. I never met June Callwood, and never knew her, but I am glad to have known of her.
Thank you, Saint June.
Labels: Volunteering
posted by veronica at 6:51 PM
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