My Prayer Partner
Yesterday, on the Sunday after Theophany, on the feast of Theodosius the founder of coenobitic monasticism, my good friend and prayer partner, Mary Koltek, reposed in the Lord.
I met Mary when I was pastor at Holy Family Parish in Winnipeg. She and her husband, Bill, were faithful members of the congregation. Bill, a retired pharmacist, had already lived a few years with Alzheimer’s disease, and Mary, also retired the day Bill closed shop, was his primary caregiver. Oh, how she loved Bill. I remember being invited up to their family cottage on the east side of Lake Winnipeg for a “day of rest.” It was Mary’s way to ensure that I got pampered and that she did the pampering. After the bountiful lunch, I retired to the sun room to read, and perhaps take a short nap. Bill entered the room, sat down for a few minutes, mumbled a few words, and then jaunted over and showed me that he had three more cigarettes for the day. (Bill was a smoker and Mary was his cigarette custodian.) Mary overheard and chased him out. He smiled at me without her seeing it, and then she smiled at me without letting him see it. The love and joy she shared with Bill, even in those difficult years at the end of his life, was like a fountain overflowing its edges – and the water was sweet. Even after Bill’s passing, Mary had me visit her at the family cottage until she was no longer able to drive herself. Oh how we laughed telling each other stories, and sharing in a home cooked meal.
Mary and I became prayer partners after she had some trouble with her heart some years back. She was in the hospital, I came to pray and anoint her. We have remained partners to that day. She always told me that she was able to live all those years because of my prayers. I kept telling her that it was the wisdom and ability of the doctors and the Lord’s mercy enacted through them that allowed her to live these “extra years” as she called them. I recall one visit to her apartment for an afternoon tea (which usually involved an entire full course meal with a bottle of wine) and reminded her of the above. She just smiled, shook her head, and poured some more wine. To tell you the truth, I have prayed for Mary every single day of my life since that day in the hospital when I anointed her. There was some sort of spiritual connection with her that I truly believed the Lord established – a type of spiritual brother-sister relationship even though Mary was old enough to be my grandmother. Mary prayed for me every day as well. Truly, if not for her prayers, I do not know where I would be.
Mary had a wisdom that exceeded her years. She shared it freely. Always a gift. I shall treasure all the nuggets that she gave.
When I was in Ottawa for some graduate studies, I sent her a postcard of one of my most favourite oil paintings, Sunrise on the Saguenay (1880, Lucius O’Brien) – see the photo above – that hangs at the National Gallery. Imagine my surprise when I returned home to Winnipeg and was presented with her own oil painting of that very same postcard. In the original there is an almost ethereal feeling as the morning mist, still hovering over the water, begins to be burned off by the rising sun. The colours of the sky and the background are pale, while the foreground is crisp, clear and vibrant. In Mary’s version, the sky is filled with much colourful vibrancy, almost a foreshadowing of her expectation of Paradise. Her painting now hangs in my living room. It was Mary’s last oil painting.
Proud Mary – in the most profoundly good way. Mary often boasted of her children and grandchildren, their accomplishments, their graduations, marriages, births. There was a shining light in her eyes as she told stories of her family to me – again, that overflowing fountain of love.
Mary was an elegant woman with mystifying simplicity. I suppose it was about last Pascha when I felt that I had finally “caught the wave” she was riding. In her longing to love and serve her family, friends, church and state, she sought first her true love. No, Bill was her second love. In her years of prayer on her knees beseeching the Lord – Who is Love – for His grace to be upon those whom she loved, she had somehow come into His presence in such a profound manner that she was simply filled by Him. Perhaps she knew this, perhaps she did not. But I convinced by her example and word that prayer is the answer – to all.
Some may think that Mary was of the world. She may have been at some point in her life. But I can tell you that her last years with us, she had left the world, simply in it, and prayed for it. Just like Theodosius.
In blessed sleep grant eternal rest, O Lord, to Your ever-to-be-remembered servant, Mary, and make her memory everlasting. Вічная пам’ять.
