The Searchlight of Insight

Megan Farrell, 1992 - 2008

I am fresh off a plane from Canada. I spent about a week with my family and partially helped pack up The Farm, a gorgeous country property that was in the family for about 35 years. I’ll write more about that trip another time. I wrote the following blog while on a plane back from my US business trip in early May. This will be the beginning of a torrent of blogs on what’s been happening with me lately – read spiritually. I am without doubt in a season of total surrender.

I'm on a plane and writing a blog I've wanted to write for a long, long time about Megan Farrell who died in November of last year. Tess wrote about that week in this blog. The theme of this topic has been building for a long, long time - since as early as 1982 with the puzzle now coming into clearer view - but of late my life has been somewhat of a spiritual and emotional earthquake.

Megan was the daughter of a friend of mine, Colin. Colin and I attend a weekly Bible study/men's prayer group at lunch on Thursdays. For some time we'd been praying for Megan who struggled with an eating disorder but in the months proceeding her death made positive turns for the best. In the days before her death Megan caught a flu bug and it was just one of those cases where the bug took her down. Colin found her on a Saturday morning as I was about to head to the US. On the way to the airport I received a text message from another mutual friend that read, "pls pray for the farrell family, daughter megan, 16, passed away this morning, patrick."

At first I didn't understand, then finally what had happened hit me like a sledge hammer. I made some frantic phone calls as the Holy Ghost began to place the weight of this event on my shoulders. I was deeply, deeply troubled. I could hardly be with myself. The flight to the US was dark. The Sunday in the US was darker as I visited two of my favourite US churches in the Silicon Valley area, dwelling in the heaviness of Megan’s death.

While in the US I reached out to Colin via e-mail. To my surprise Colin wrote back. I considered myself on the low end of priorities at that moment, but he took the time to respond. I felt very much called to put together a photo video of Megan's life. I had no idea how it would be used or when, but the call was there. Colin agreed, provided I understood that he also didn’t know when it would be used. Meanwhile, he was living my worst nightmare: the death of one's child.

I landed back in Hong Kong and the process of making the video began. Over the course of the next week two things happened. First, and this might be a bit harsh, but I questioned if somehow Megan’s death was a failure of Christian brothers - not specifically at any individual, but as a whole, had the community supported Colin as much as we could? This sense grew as I sifted through hundreds of photos of Megan: some I received from Colin and his family and others that came off a Facebook group created as a tribute to Megan. Megan’s school reserved a classroom for students to visit and post messages/pictures of and to Megan. Tess and I visited, snapping pictures from here, too.

After viewing, cropping, enhancing hundreds of pictures, I knew Megan in a whole new way. That was heavy. I couldn't help but wonder if those of us who had prayed for Megan knew her, as we could have known her. Could my prayers have been more pointed, powerful, precise and thereby interceded more effectively for a different outcome? Megan was a committed Christian. There seemed no question of Megan's salvation - although it's not for me to judge - but heavy on my heart was the question, "What about those who don't know Christ, Charles, or who have fallen away? How many of those will...?" This notion that I – and maybe others - could have done more weighed heavily on my heart and has continued since then. At various prayer groups we've discussed the idea and since then made a greater effort to get out of our "prayer comfort zones."

Second, that week I had the privilege of being closer to Colin and his family than one would typically expect considering the circumstances and that it was only Colin who I knew. Through the video production and offering our "people mover" to ferry people back and forth to and from different events I had the privilege of being available. That gave me a humbling glimpse into the family’s world. What I most appreciated was how much they trusted me to be around for the fleeting moments when I was here and there. The funeral, held by Ambassador Church at Union Church, was wonderful and extraordinary: an amazing message of hope in the midst of a huge family tragedy. Below is the video I made that played twice as people arrived at the church before the service started.

About six weeks later Editha died. Her story can be found here. Tess has asked many times: "if things happen in '3s' then what or who is next?" Well we probably don't know, and even if we did, we wouldn't prophesize at this point but certainly we're praying for the situation. Meanwhile, since Megan’s death I have taken more time for and with my friends’ kids… taken those extra few seconds or minutes to connect with them more meaningfully. If those moments count towards making a better world for others, then from what I have learned of Megan, she would be happy. I have also made attempts to step beyond my spiritual comfort zone and thanks to God, I am getting considerable prompting in that area. Stay tuned for details.

"Every time I think of you—and I think of you often!—I thank God for your lives of free and open access to God, given by Jesus. There's no end to what has happened in you—it's beyond speech, beyond knowledge. The evidence of Christ has been clearly verified in your lives." 1 Corinthians 1:4-6

Pause & reflect...

“Show me, O LORD, my life's end and the number of my days; let me know how fleeting is my life. You have made my days a mere handbreadth; the span of my years is as nothing before you. Each man's life is but a breath. Selah” Psalm 39: 4 – 5

Psalm 39 was a part of The Bible that inspired Sela’s name, except we obviously dropped the “h!” The word is spread throughout the Psalms and yet, interestingly, the literal meaning has been lost. Some believe it is a direction to pause and reflect. Theologians have studied the Psalms word “Selah” at length. Today I searched for scripture pointing to the fleeting nature of life to be pointed to Selah. Pause and reflect.

When the triplets were in the hospital almost five years ago, many people prayed for them, including the amah community in our building. They prayed much more than we will probably ever know. When the triplets came home the first year was fragile. One of the joys of each day, though, was when a handful of the amahs in our building would come to give the triplets their last bottle of the day. The lights would be dim, everyone spoke in hushed whispers… it was “quiet time” and often when Tess and I could spend time reading with Sebastian before he went to bed. One such helper was Editha, who has lived in our building almost as long as us. Editha has always been willing to help in anyway possible. Editha helped teach Marianne how to cook more dishes last summer. Editha's daughter worked with us for a short period during the transition from Lita & De to Gary & Marianne. Whenever Editha was on the playground with the children she cared for she was always cheerful, pleasant and playful with our own children. Editha has been an incredible friend and support to our family and Gary, Marianne, Lita, De & Mila.

Last night, Editha was coming home from Chi Fu with a friend. It was dark. They got off the mini bus and started to cross Pokfulam Road, a very busy fast-moving street. Standing on the centerline in the middle of the road they checked for traffic. Editha’s friend saw the motorcycle approaching and yelled "Stop!" Evidently Editha didn’t see the vehicle or hear her friend. She stepped out, was hit by the motorcycle and thrown 20 meters down the road. She was taken to Queen Mary Hospital and operated on for several hours. Editha woke up briefly this morning and everyone was relieved. Later in the afternoon Katie (Editha’s employer) received a call from the doctors saying that Editha was on life support. She is expected to die in the next 24 hours. Editha’s daughter and son-in-law are with her. Her husband and youngest son are on their way to Hong Kong from the Philippines.

Tonight when I got home from work we sat down with the kids to explain the situation. The triplets didn’t really understand but Sebastian did, a bit, and he was sad.  Each one of us prayed for Editha – the triplets prayed that Editha would get better. Tess and I prayed that the family would be comforted and for a miraculous healing. Sebastian prayed about Jesus being with Editha. Then we once again reminded them that vehicles are dangerous and that this is why we (1) wear seat belts (2) look both ways when crossing the road (3) don’t play next to a road (4) concentrate and pay attention when crossing the road and (4) hold an adults hand when crossing the road.

As the kids headed to bed, Tess and I went to the ICU to visit Editha. Obviously she is in a coma, one that she will never awaken barring a miracle. We thanked her for being such a loving, supportive friend. We prayed over her and read encouraging scripture. There were other friends at her bedside, including one of the security guards from our building and we were touched to see her.

Tess is weary and now in bed. We are saddened by this situation that happened in the blink of an eye. We have many fond memories of Editha, including the accompanying pictures from Christmas Day 2004 when Tess & I made breakfast for Lita, Mila, Editha and some of their friends. We anticipate the next few days when the family will have the most impossible decision to make, one that in the end seems inevitable.

"Turn Your gaze away from me, that I may smile again Before I depart and am no more."Psalm 39:13

Selah

Aftermath: Editha was pronounced dead less than 24 hours later at 4:19 pm Hong Kong time.

Olivia, 1993 to 2007

On Saturday we came bounding through the door after Jasper was discharged from the hospital to pick-up the shopping list and do a shop. Everyone was excited to see Jasper, and likewise JJ to see them, so there was lots of noise and energy. Sebastian blurted out, "Olivia told me this morning that she MISSED Jasper!" Really we answered back. That's wonderful.

All the kids are almost trained to remove their shoes upon entering the flat, but today we were only there for a minute to drop off some overnight bags, grab the shopping list and be gone. Shoes ON, everyone. Shoes ON. We're not staying.

Amidst the noise and commotion Tess saw Olivia on the sofa. Knowing glances were exchanged between Tess & Lita, the latter headed towards the cat. The excitement continued but a few seconds later Lita brushed by Tess and me to say very quietly, "Olivia's not moving." I pivoted around to see her lying in one of her favourite spots on the sofa near the heater. As inconspicuously as possible I moved towards her, the kids tracking me as I did. Sure enough, she was still, her big gorgeous eyes still open.

We quickly went into "handle it" mode. Kids (quite unsuspecting of what we'd just figured out), Lita and De were sent down to the car to get strapped in and wait for us. I put Olivia's body into a plastic bag, and then into the nicest shopping bag I could find. (Only the best for my girl.) A few calls were made about how to dispose of the body, legal obligations etc. I taped up the bag, putting it outside the back door. We left for our shopping excursion, returned, kids had lunch, trips down for nap, Seb and I did his homework and then Tess & I had "the talk" with Sebastian.

Sebastian handled it very well (better than me actually). We had known for a while that Olivia was circling the airport in preparation for the grand landing, and had forewarned Seb in the last few weeks that Olivia would not be with us forever. When we broke the news he was upset but seemed to feel a lot better knowing that we believe pets go to Heaven. The Bible doesn't specifically say that, but I'm not about to debate that here. Considering that the promises and joys of eternal life surpass all expectations (according to The Bible), I am sure that would somehow include or cover off one's love for a pet. Seb asked where Olivia would go - we explained to the vets. He asked if they would bring her back to life - we said no. Then the heaven discussion took place. He wanted to go to the vet with me. We said no, that wasn't appropriate. "Okay, I want to go back to watching my video, now."

We originally got Olivia from the SPCA in June 1997. I took her back there knowing they would have the facilities to take care of her body. I walked in and complained she died. "Her warranty was ten years," I said.

Yes, Olivia was my girl. It was June 1997 right before the handover when Tess and I decided to get two cats. We each agreed that one person could choose one cat. Tess chose Cee Cee from the Kowloon SPCA, an energetic kitten. I chose Olivia from the Wanchai SPCA. About four years old, Olivia came from a neglected home and had been in the SPCA cattery three months. We were told this was her last month. The SPCA was running out of room and no one wanted Olivia, even though she was a gorgeous cat with rich, dark colours and big black pads on her paws. We went back a second time when I picked up Olivia in my arms. Olivia looked up into my eyes, made a little goat sound "maaah" and we took her home. I was so happy knowing we'd given this beautiful creature another chance. I wondered if it was life 5, 6, 7?

Considering that juncture in our lives it was probably incredibly irresponsible of Tess and me to get cats. Who knew how long we'd be in Hong Kong, or where we would go next. We made a pact that we would stick with the cats "until death do us part." There would be no second homes for either Cee Cee or Olivia - they were with us for life. I recall at the time thinking, "that probably means we're staying in Hong Kong a while" considering the hassle it is to relocate animals to other countries. That thought was one of the bombs that went off in my head on Saturday afternoon - in a weird spiritual way, as if a message from God: now you're not tied to Hong Kong. Woof... or should I say, mah!

The other small bomb that went off in my head was the last time a close pet died... the family dog, Pippin, in 1978. That afternoon I saw David Brightling. David is a long time friend from Toronto who I've known since I was nine years old and now lives in Hong Kong. Saturday afternoon, after my visit to the SPCA, David and I met for a beer and then went to see Casino Royale. David and I were also fond of another Caldwell family cat, Odysseus, who passed away in the early 90s.

What do I remember most about Olivia? The first mah in the SPCA. The fact she loved having her tummy rubbed, claws and legs outstretched in pure gluttony. She loved bacon, ham and tuna juice. The fact Olivia loved a good blast of hot air - whether coming from a heater, the computer or dehumidifier, sunshine pouring through the window, she was there. If Olivia knew about microwave ovens I am sure she'd have accidentally killed herself long ago. I remember the fact she loved sitting on top of us when we were lying on a sofa or bed and she was amazingly tolerant of babies, toddlers and young children. (At left: Olivia & Sela are passengers on Seb's sofa minibus, Sept 2005.)

(Left: Olivia looking for a comfy warm place to sleep in Seb's crib, January 2002.) I'll miss the fact the Juniper senior HR team heard Olivia every Wednesday night on our conference calls. Her last call was a few weeks ago when she welcomed new guy on the block, Steve D. Olivia loved her Bizzy Kitty (cardboard clawing board), especially when it was covered in catnip. Yes, she enjoyed a buzz every once in a while!

Despite the drugs, Olivia was a very smart cat, too. One could talk to Olivia and she seemed to have this uncanny way of showing understanding. Olivia was loud... wow, was she loud - sometimes driving us crazy. While I was with Jasper in the hospital on Friday night, Olivia got loud again, this time as if she wanted to say something.

"Do you think on Saturday morning when Olivia suddenly started meowing that she knew she was dying," I asked Tess.

"Yes, I do," replied Tess who explained she gave Olivia lots of extra cuddles that evening.

While circling the airport the last few weeks we watched Olivia closely for signs of pain or discomfort. (Olivia had been remarkably healthy the entire time with us, barring a few extra grams on the tummy.) We'd both been around pets long enough that we instinctively knew the nature of Olivia's symptoms was probably irreversible, and Olivia seemed to know that, too. Tess and I agreed we wanted Olivia to die at home, but if she started to suffer we'd head to the vets.

At home is where Olivia fell into her deepest sleep, in one of her favourite spots, on the sofa, next to the heater. What I will never forget was that last look on Olivia's face. When we found her I don't think she'd landed that long ago - maybe only twenty minutes or even less? Olivia's eyes were still full of life, so much so I did a double take. Then I got it... the look in Olivia's eyes was unmistakable and something I will never, ever forget... thank you for giving me another chance, Olivia was saying, thank you for loving me, for rubbing my tummy, for the heater... thank you for the 9th life. You're welcome, Olivia, we love you, too.

Mah.

Where were you...?

When 911 happened Tess and I had moved into our current flat 4.5 months earlier. When we first moved in there was lots to do to fix the place up, so we never got around to figuring out how the TV antenna worked. There was little incentive - we only got two basic and generally boring English channels vs. our previous flat where we got free cable and ten channels! We managed to get the DVD connected, and watched the Sopranos and Nicky Gumble, but never anything directly from the outside world. 911 changed that.

Tess was 6.5 months pregnant with Sebastian at the time. It had been a long day so Tess fell asleep early. I had been home from work a few hours when I got a call from US HR. They wanted to know if I'd heard from my boss, or knew his itinerary. At the time he was on a CX flight from Hong Kong to Toronto, with a stopover in Anchorage. "No," I replied, "best to call his secretary and here's her number. Why?"

"Something's happened in New York. I'm not going to stop to explain, just turn on your TV. Bye, Charles," and they hung up.

Of course our TV wasn't plugged into the building's fuzzy antenna, and there was no signal from just turning on the TV itself.  Lots of static, but that would just wake Tess. I turned to the Internet, instead, starting with CNN.

"Whoa," I thought, "this is weird." CNN was under a denial of service attack - meaning it was being bombarded by hackers and the site crashing. That's actually not what was happening... it was being bombarded by people trying to get updates. I went to The Drudge Report and MSN... only then did I figure out what was going on. Occasionally CNN.com came through. I distinctly remember the entire site being shut down and CNN posting only one... single... page. Between the three sites and online chats with Tess' mother, Maureen, I received updates on what was happening. Eventually at about 4 AM HK time (4 PM in New York - the Twin Towers had long collapsed) I went to bed. I lay there for the longest time thinking, "it's a different world now."

Meanwhile my boss had no idea what was going on... after taking off from the refueling in Anchorage the first plane hit in New York. Not long after that moment his CX flight re-routed to Vancouver, "for technical reasons" said the pilot. As the plane approached YVR my boss watched through his window.  "Hmmm," he thought to himself, "there are a lot of 747s at this airport." (Essentially most, if not all, trans-pacific flights inbound to North America at the time - or not far from - were instructed to land in Vancouver.) As my boss' plane landed he realised a lot of these 747's were sitting on the tarmac. He looked at the gates to see if they were empty... he saw lots of planes at gates, except they all sat about 3 meters back from the gates. (Afterwards it was explained that the planes were all moved back from the gates as a way to insure they were secure.) That's when my boss figured out something wasn't quite right and phoned Gary, one of the company's Asia Pacific VPs on the East Coast. Gary was working from home that day and ten minutes earlier had watched the second tower fall. Gary relayed the events to our mutual, and shocked, boss who spent the next six hours on the tarmac waiting to de-plane -- only to be greeted by Canadian military and mounties dressed as commandoes. He then spent 48 hours in a Vancouver hotel room before turning around and flying back to Hong Kong.

Odd that this week Tess and I decided to take a stab at CSI New York. We learn in the opening episode that the lead character - Mac Taylor played by Gary Sinise - lost his wife in 911. The episode opens with Mac in a church and Mac finds himself at Ground Zero as the episode ends. Seems that Mac struggles with letting go and no doubt, I know I would. But perhaps on this 911 anniversary, as the new buildings break ground and take shape at Ground Zero, I wish people like Mac peace, in hope that they find a way to re-build, too.

Keep smiling

Alison Jane Truelove
Jan 27, 1964 - Mar 19, 2006

I am currently on my way to the US from Hong Kong for a five day business trip at WW HQ in Silicon Valley. My back has settled a little and thanks to some prayers and my Diamond status on CX I've been upgraded all the way to First Class. Not bad - First Class on the world's #1 airline! Of course, for those of you who follow this blog you'll know that means I have settled into the luxurious atmosphere of introspection and retrospection. Yes, the lights are dim, the red wine poured, the best songs selected to my personal play list. I can see Tess rolling her eyes now that a PMAM post is on its way. I'm in seat 1A, the very first on the plane. Only the gentleman opposite me will notice me getting misty eyed. Once again I find myself writing a tribute while sitting in CX First Class. I'd be a liar if I denied weeping on this flight, too.

On March 19th a friend of mine in Toronto, Canada, Alison, passed away. Woof. Hard to know exactly where to go from that statement. The news of Alison arrived by e-mail early last week from David Brightling, lifelong Toronto friend who now lives in Hong Kong.

I first met Alison about twenty years ago in Toronto at a New Year's Eve party. Post midnight most people had left when a small group of us, including Alison, sat around stoking the fire, listening to music and I think I embarrassed myself for a while playing the piano. I recall thinking that Alison was a rare breed. Little did I know just how rare.

A few weeks later I received a call from Alison. She and some friends were starting up a Toronto Rotaract Club. (For those who have never heard of Rotaract, essentially it is a young person's  Rotary International.) "Was I interested?" she asked. I liked the idea of Rotary since my late grandfather, William Salem Caldwell, was an avid Rotarian and spoke highly of the community service organization. And thus Alison became the person who introduced me to Rotaract/Rotary along with a whole world of friends.

For the next few years a bunch of us met once/week for Rotaract fellowship, the planning of community service projects and "more fun than humanly possible" as Alison and her good friend Ellen used to say.

Then two really big things happened. First, a Rotarian named Paul Truelove nominated me for RYLA (Rotary Youth Leadership Award.) This was a week long young professional development program. I went with some guy I hardly knew named James Christie. Yuh - he and I turned out to be best friends who still keep in touch and reportedly, our family histories have a freak intermingling about 125 years ago.

RYLA was a fantastic opportunity and I kid you not - I use those skills today. For example, RYLA introduced me to HSI case studies that we use today at Juniper Networks. We also used HSI and STG in 2005 to conduct a major in-house corporate culture study that paid off in spades. Had RYLA not had its impact, I would not be such a fan of HSI case studies. (I've even gone on to write five custom, forced-ranking case studies during my career.) So RYLA was a big deal.

Second, Paul Truelove nominated me for a Rotary Group Study Exchange. In a nutshell, this is when a Rotary District on one side of the world sends four young professionals and two Rotarians to the other side of the world to another Rotary District. Then, about six months later, the distant Rotary District sends it a team of six to the first district. I was sent to South East Asia (Malaysia, Singapore, Thailand) and six months later a South East Asia team came to visit us in Toronto. Well readers, I currently live and work in Hong Kong so you don't have to be a rocket scientist to figure out the impact of that trip! The chain of events of me having a career in Asia started with meeting Alison.  Paul and Alison married a few years ago, too, which seems ironic in hindsight considering the impact both these people had on my life.

My top three memories of Alison?

There were too many to recall but the first story I'll share happened one night when the Asian GSE team had come to Toronto. Karaoke is big in Asia, so we took them, along with a crowd of Rotarians and Rotaractors to a Karaoke bar in downtown Toronto. At one point one of our party was on stage crooning out Elvis Presley's "Can't Help Falling In Love With You" when Alison, Ellen and another girl threw themselves at stage front, screaming hysterically and pawed the singer. The gimmick caught everyone off guard and brought down the house!

Second, Alison loved to laugh. I mean seriously folks, Alison loved a good laugh and I'll always remember her for that. But more importantly, Alison made other people laugh, especially those less fortunate. Alison was unafraid of doing whatever it took to help the less fortunate laugh, too. I recall one Easter Seals Christmas Party at the Royal York Hotel where our Rotaract Club was out in full strength. To put this party in perspective, probably 50% of the children at this party were wheel chair confined... special needs and challenged in ways that society does not regularly remind us. For some people this party can be hard. As the designated photographer I was wondering around snapping pics of smiling kids, whose worlds had come alive from magical clowns or party tricks, balloons, Santa Claus or just being around people who were very alive and friendly. I was in search of the cutest picture possible.

At one point Alison came up to talk to me. After exchanging a few casual comments about who was where doing what, I confessed to her, "You know what, Alison? I'm letting the camera come between me and these kids."

"Yeah?" said Alison quizzically, tilting her head at me as if to say, "Tell me something I don't know."

"Come on, you're out of film anyway!" Alison exclaimed, grabbing my hand to lead me into the chaos. The next 90 minutes of my life I was face-to-face with humanity. Few words could possibly describe the memories of that afternoon other than "more touching than humanly possible."

Third, Alison was an incredibly graceful person who went out of her way to cherish and appreciate friends. Alison had considerable integrity and an amazing ability to delicately express her opinion of which on one specific occasion, I was the recipient. Something had happened in my personal life and Alison, without passing judgment on my actions, artfully expressed her disapproving opinion of the impact of my actions. At that point in my life I would have turned and run. (I was using a very young & immature operating system that constantly crashed, causing Charles to hibernate without warning.) But I didn't flee - testimony to Alison's specific choice of words that left me informed but still an empowered friend. That conversation was an important one that has stayed with me my entire life.

Of course all this was years ago and it's difficult for me to personally describe what Alison was like in recent times or just days before she slipped from our world. But from what I have read and heard about Alison, I am confident she was an even bigger, more wise and generous human being than when I knew her... if that's even possible. All one has to do is read a snippet of Alison's obituary to appreciate the hugeness of her being:

Alison was a dedicated member of the Rotary Club of Toronto, a Paul Harris Fellow, William Peace Award winner; a long-time supporter of Easter Seals and winner of the Yvonne Alexander Award for Volunteerism. Founder and co-chair of the Truelove/Dell Scholarship Fund, Director Emeritus of Peace by Peace. Member of the T.T.C. ACAT committee and many other charitable projects. Alison's tireless efforts have helped countless people.

I left Toronto in 1992 and Canada in 1996. Unfortunately, I left behind many friends and as the years went by we lost touch. That included Alison, which makes me even sadder now, until recently when we were indirectly in touch through Paul Truelove. This past weekend as Tess and I talked about Alison I started down the tunnel of "should have kept in touch more" until Tess gave me The Look and I said, "I know, I know. No regrets."

Alison was a selfless person… who dedicated her life to serving others. Her clever wit was always at the ready and her commitment to life, charitable spirit and making a difference for others dramatically impacted the extended world all around her. Her passing leaves a large void in the world and begs the question, “What can I do? How can I make a difference” One of numerous things Alison's life teaches us, is one individual's expanded capacity to impact the world. Now, I am sure, Alison serves a greater charity in the sky.

Keep smiling, Alison, we miss you more than humanly possible.

Online condolences, and donations may be made at www.earlyfuneralhome.com.