Remembering Sister Margaret Dick, SNJM First Anniversary of Death and Eternal Life

…. Memories of a Lonesome Kind ….

In the prologue to a delightful book, “When the Bartender Dims the Lights – (Storytelling after 80),” author and story teller Ron Evans (long-time friend of Margaret along with his wife Norma) writes:  “There’s a line I came upon in the musings of a preacher:  ‘On a Sunday morning,’ he said, ‘many of the people sitting before you are the walking wounded, and you need to give them permission to be sad.’  In a world obsessed with happiness, where being great is all that matters, let the preacher say, ‘You have permission to be sad.’  And in a world where old age becomes the golden years, where every problem can be fixed and every ailment cured, let the preacher say, ‘You have permission to be sad.’  In a world preoccupied with prolonging life, where death is a forbidden word, let the preacher say, ‘You have permission to die.’  And let the preacher say, ‘You have permission to live in memories of a lonesome kind.’




One year ago, during the night of April 23 & 24 Margaret Dick, co-founder and co-director of Qu’Appelle House of Prayer, died.  She was not quite 82.  She passed away shortly after I routinely took her to her cabin (where she had lived over 23 years) some time after 11:00 pm. on the night of April 23.  Her light was out before midnight;  she had prepared for sleep, lowered two blinds, pulled back the blankets, turned off the light, and simply fell back onto her bed, and into eternal life.  Her last words to me that night were, “Thank you,” after I had driven her home on the golf cart – her last words every day for a long time,  and now of her life.  I discovered her body the next morning at 9:00 am.  It was Wednesday of Easter Week.

Just one week before her death, Wednesday of Holy Week, Marg had come into my office, standing in the doorway for a while before hesitantly asking:  “Are you going to keep me?”  Given a long period of declining health and an uncertain future, it was a fair question, asked with raw vulnerability and courage.  “Of course!”  Little could each of us have known the deeper meaning of both the question and the response.

“You have permission to live in memories of a lonesome kind.”  The many, many of us who knew, loved and enjoyed Margaret have permission on this first anniversary.

It will be four years this coming August 15 that a remarkable interview took place on a deck at the house of prayer;  there were two persons:  Margaret and Marie-Claire Marcotte. Marie-Claire, writer, director, producer, author and actress, and co-founder of She Said Films, was doing this interview for “She Said Notes” which would be published in October, 2016.   Several years earlier the young woman was first introduced to Marg through her mother Madeleine Lepage.  Marie-Claire remembers being quite taken by Myers-Briggs and hoping to "figure herself out" with Marg's help. When it wasn't yet clear what her Type was, Marg so wisely suggested to a now impatient Marie-Claire (then only 19) to give herself time. “After all, wasn't figuring oneself out a life's work?”

Photo thanks to Cherie Westmoreland

The interview began somewhat hesitantly, even reluctantly.  Marie-Claire writes:  In front of
us are the valleys, possibly echoing stories they’ve heard at some point in time. Margaret’s smiling eyes scan me, my laptop.  She looks out at the hills and lets out a little sigh.  “I don’t know about this interview.”   (I try to reassure her.)  “You can see this as more of a discussion. Not an interview.”  “Fine.”   “Do you know why I asked to speak with you?”  “Oh someone put you up to it I’m sure.”  (She smirks.) 

“Can I call you a master at the art of listening?”   (Margaret seems a bit perplexed by this grand title.)  “Oh, well I… I don’t know.”   “Okay, let’s go with Spiritual Director. What is a Spiritual Director?”

“Someone who has openness with another person. It’s someone who is there when people need help, when they need to see what’s really happening inside of them. People usually seek out help when they want advice, when they want to put things in a different position, usually one they’re not used to. I suppose you could say that I help them lead the life they were meant to live, the life that their heart and spirit wish to live.  Some people are anxious when they come to see me and don’t feel that comfortable in sharing. I try to get some of their worries and questioning out in the open where they can take a look at all of it.”

“Are you a natural listener?”  “I don’t remember people telling me I was a natural listener… I left my home, family, and friends and became a nun immediately after grade twelve. And at that age, what do you even know? You know very little. As time went on, people would naturally come to me and start sharing their stories and concerns. So as time went on, I felt more confident with my role as a listener. The big thing is making the other person feel comfortable so that they can feel free to say what they need to say. If someone comes to me and wants to share, I must share a lot of myself as well by being present and open.”

“When do you know your work with someone is done?”  “Usually the person in question knows inside of themselves what’s good for them. They know when the work is done.”

Marie-Claire goes on to say:  “As an artist, listening to others’ stories, to the world around me is integral to my work. I consider your work to be so creative.”  (Margaret stares at me as though I’m a strange tropical bird she’s never seen before.)  “You wouldn’t consider your work to be creative?”

“No, no. Oh dear.”  “Where have you felt the most creative?”  “Maybe with my recipe book. I started cooking very late in life. When I moved to the Qu’Appelle House of Prayer I was suddenly in charge of a kitchen and sometimes feeding up to twenty people. All of a sudden I became a ‘chef.’ Oh God. Oh my gosh.  I started assembling recipes I liked and it turned into a cookbook.”

(Margaret shows me her cookbook. It’s a thick book filled with eighteen years worth of recipes. They’re all still in very good condition. She points to a recipe.  We spend a good half hour talking about food before I steer us back to our theme!)


“Has it ever been a burden to carry someone’s story?”  “I don’t think so. I can’t solve someone’s problem. Sometimes even they can’t.”  “Where do all these stories live in you?”  (Margaret taps her heart.)  “How do you prepare yourself to listen to others?”

“I find I have to let go of something else to be present to the other and the now. I always take some time to get down inside of myself and then try to be open and to listen.  I want to be present to the person who's talking to me." 

Photo thanks to Dolores Fehr

“Do you feel clear about your place in the world?”  “Yeah. Yeah, I feel clear about it. My sisters and brothers might think I’m crazy but no, I’m in the right place. I am often surprised how things turned out, all the things I have done, often doing things which no one else in my community was doing, often helping start things that were new, different, and — I guess — creative. 
I wouldn’t have it any other way. I am so grateful

“Any parting words on listening?”   “Listening is so intentional.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There is much else in this once-in-a-lifetime heart-to-heart conversation – photos, lovely artistic touches, recipes … memories of a lonesome kind...and every bit as much ~  memories of a grateful kind.  For the complete 
experience, feel welcome to click on either of these two links:

https://medium.com/@shesaidnotes/a-master-listener-e754d4b48bb3

https://www.shesaidnotes.com/notes/a-master-listener

Last of all, another link helping remember Margaret’s anniversary, which includes her obituary and several guest entries, past and recent, which will close soon – April 26:

https://leaderpost.remembering.ca/obituary/margaret-dick-1074287838

~~~~  Caringly prepared by Glenn – companion and co-worker for 32 years  ~~~~

***  Highly recommended for a good read – “When The Bartender Dims the Lights,” by Ron Evans, September, 2019.  Can be ordered from Ron ($20.00):  rmevans@sasktel.net.