I love stories. It’s so important to tell our stories and to hear each other’s stories. Stories help us connect and to see each other as human. They help us build empathy and widen our perspectives. Stories can be very different, even when they involve the same people and events. We have our own distinct memories of the story, unique to our own experience.

I have many stories – and probably more than my share of stories about getting lost. One such memorable story happened the day there was a board meeting scheduled out of town for one of the organizations that I am involved with.  I had no childcare and decided that rather than miss the meeting, I would just bring them with me.  They were ages 6, 5, 3, 2, and 11 months.

I loaded the children into the van, buckled the baby into his car seat, and started driving. I had a vague idea of my destination, but as I continued down the highway, every passing road sign made me question if I was still going in the right direction; every turn looked like it could be “the turn.” Uncertainty grew, as did my annoyance – why hadn’t I confirmed the route I needed to take before embarking upon the journey?

Finally, I swallowed my pride, called for directions, and we finally arrived at the meeting. A bit breathless and disorganized, the children and I tumbled into the boardroom. Everyone’s eyes were on me, watching with confusion, while I set the children up in the corner with crayons and colouring books. Pretending this is the way everyone comes to a board meeting, I straightened my clothes, put on a smile, and sat down to get to work.

At first, the kids were quiet. As the day went on, I began to relax. “Maybe,” I thought, “this wasn’t such a bad idea after all.” Looking back, I realize that I ignored the obvious changes in circumstances for longer than I should have. The snacks ran out — boredom set in. The children could now be found crawling around on the floor or running back and forth, giggles interspersed with the occasional shout that someone wasn’t playing fair. The accusations became more frequent and louder until it was crystal clear that I had lost control of the situation. I hustled the children out of the room, quickly trying to pick up the mess they’d left behind and whispering apologies for leaving early. I backed out the door, face flushed and feeling more than a little self-conscious.

Once again, I loaded everyone into the van, buckled up the baby, and started driving.  We stopped at the gas station, and my 6 year old politely suggested that I ask for directions home.  I rolled my eyes and explained that wasn’t necessary because we would simply go back the way we had come.  I pulled away from the gas station.  And promptly made a wrong turn.

It wasn’t long before I realized my error, but turning the van around was going to be difficult. I told myself that surely there would be a better road ahead, perhaps just on the other side of the hill. I kept my foot on the gas.

Instead of a “better road,” I found a small lagoon. And then we were stuck. Literally. The van sunk into the swampy mud, and that was that. The early spring rain had turned to sleet – abandoning the van and walking back to the main road was not an option. When I realized I’d forgotten to charge my cell phone and couldn’t call for help, my heart sank.

I sat silently staring out the driver’s window, unsure about what to do next. It was now past supper. The children were not only restless but also hungry, tired, and full of non-stop questions:  “Where are we?  How much longer until someone finds us?  How much longer, mom?  How stuck are we, mom?”  Finally, I took a deep breath, mustered up a cheery voice, and said, “There’s nothing to worry about. Yes, we’re stuck, but someone will come to rescue us.”

We waited. As the night started to envelop us in its darkness, fear and uncertainty sat like a weight in the pit of my stomach. My mind raced from one “what if?” to another. I imagined all the worst possible outcomes as if we were characters from the plot of a poorly written horror film.  I told myself that if everyone would just fall asleep, we’d manage for the night, the cold rain would stop come morning, and we’d be able to walk to help if the help didn’t come to us first.

I was grateful that I had filled up at the gas station so I could keep the van running with the heat on.  At the same time, I was ashamed of myself for having ignored the sage advice of a six-year-old when we were there.  And why hadn’t I charged my cell phone?  My internal voice continued to chastise:  “why didn’t you….” and “you should have….”

I had started to doze off with my head resting against the window when my daughter’s frantic knock on the glass woke me with a start.  I was so relieved that I instantly burst into tears.  It had been a very long six hours waiting for that moment.

The next day, a tow truck pulled the van out of the mud and back up the hill to the other side to set it down on solid ground. I wish I could say the experience helped improve my sense of direction, but, these many years later, I remain as prone to getting lost as ever. I take comfort in knowing that when I inevitably get lost again, someone will come looking for me.

This is but one of countless stories contained in the chapters of my life. Some parts make me laugh when I remember them, and others make me cry. There are some stories that are more difficult to tell than others, and I expect there are many more stories yet to be written.

All stories are important, and I look forward to hearing yours.

Read more
Charmaine Panko

Charmaine Panko, KC, C.Med, Q. Arb

Collaborative Law | Mediation | Wills & Estates

A Story From Tonya

Many years ago, I experienced a traumatic incident which left me badly shaken. Scared of suffering a similar painful experience again, for a long time, I limited my activities to people and places I knew well. However, I realized that I could not continue to limit myself in this manner and needed to find a way to expand my comfort zone. I put on my thinking cap and started brainstorming possible solutions.

I realized that one reason my fear was manageable in certain circumstances was that there was something (walls and a locked door) or someone (a person I trusted) that made me feel protected. What else could provide me with a similar feeling of safety?

One solution I came up with was books. I often read when I walked. I originally started doing this when I was an undergrad in university. Raising three young daughters as a single mother meant that I had limited time for studying. I began to read my textbooks while walking between classes on campus to try and grab a bit more studying time. When I was reading and walking, I was focused primarily but not exclusively on my book, but I was also aware of my surroundings – people, obstacles. However, while I was aware that other people were approaching, I could easily avoid bumping into them without actually raising my eyes from what I was reading. In short, I realized that a book could act as a shield of sorts.

I began to take a book with me when I went out. Not making eye contact allowed me to feel almost invisible and, thus, relatively safe. Slowly but surely, I expanded my comfort zone.

I still frequently read when I walk, but I do so for entirely different reasons. Sometimes, I read a novel purely for pleasure. Other times, I read case law in an effort to multitask – getting some exercise and fresh air while keeping up to date on recent developments in my field. Still other times, I will be reading texts or messages on my cell phone, connecting with friends, family, and clients. Often, when I read while I am walking now, I will glance up at the people I pass, make eye contact, nod a greeting, and smile.

Over the years, I have had a wide variety of reactions from other people who encounter me reading while I am walking. Some people find my behavior odd. Others find it astonishing and wonder how I keep from walking into a power pole or another person. I suspect some people find it rude if I am so engrossed in my reading that I do not look up and acknowledge them in passing, while others don’t seem to give me much thought at all.

The same behavior can be done on different occasions for a variety of reasons by the same person, and, in turn, will be ascribed distinct meanings by disparate people due to their own experiences, values, biases, assumptions, beliefs, and expectations. While it is natural for people to apply meaning to the actions of others, it is important to remember that we never truly know why another person behaves the way they do. If you truly want to understand another person’s actions, ask them. You may be surprised by their response.


Tonya Lambert

Family Law | Guardianship Applications | Health Care Directives | Mediation

A Story From Dominique

It has often been said that in sickness, we realize the value of our health. In the spring of 2019, I began having intense abdominal pain. It was so severe that I had trouble going to work, cleaning my house, or generally functioning the way I traditionally do. I felt like I wanted to sleep until it was over. Just close my eyes and have the physical feeling of the pain fade into the distance, or to one day wake up and find that I had imagined the whole thing.

I saw my family doctor several times and a string of specialists over the course of four months in what became a frustrating parade of blood tests, appointments, and paperwork. Every step of the process I wished there could be one stable thing. Two doctors that agreed, one building to visit rather than five, a properly updated file, or the ultimately coveted solid diagnosis.

The professionals I dealt with were kind and knowledgeable. It just happened to turn out that internal problems are very challenging to pin down without surgery. I was frustrated, overwhelmed, and impatient to have the issues resolved. But really, apart from the actual pain, it was the physical sensations of navigating a system I knew nothing about that really got me. Every phone call, my heart would drop. Then as the irritation of no news or results grew, the helplessness and exhaustion would shut me down and make me want to hide until things magically resolved themselves.

I’ve since recovered from what turned out to be a collection of digestive issues and some compressed nerves in my spine, but the experience sticks out to me. The feelings I had of being lost, worked up, and scared are the same feelings I had after my first car accident managing my SGI insurance claim, or trying to sort out who would take over the car loan after a breakup, or when my grandmother died and honestly, I had no idea what to say to my distraught father.

There are times in our lives when we wish we could go on autopilot and have someone else inhabit our bodies to manage the fallout. I wished I could have slept right through this experience. Unfortunately, it doesn’t work that way. What I need when I am in that state of brain fog and frustration is a guide. I hope that whatever your journey, whatever your story, that you can find guides. We don’t need to walk these paths alone.

Read more

Dominique Panko

Dominique Panko

C. Med, SGI Mediator, Recognized Parenting Coordinator and Family Mediator on the Minister’s List, under Section 44.01 of The King’s Bench Act, 1998

A Story From Monica

Processes can be frustrating when the terrain is foreign. Feeling vulnerable or not in control of the process is not something that anyone desires to feel, especially when they are told by the world around them that to be strong is to be independent. One thing I have learned is that vulnerability is not a sign of failure but a reminder that we need each other at times and that life can throw you curveballs! Having someone walk beside you and advocate for your desire for communication or your need to make it past the red tape can begin the process of gaining back some calm in the storm. I am speaking from experience in my own life where emotional drain and outside forces caused my ability to effectively speak for myself to be impaired. Having someone to bounce ideas off of who was not in the thick of the storm and to calmly communicate my needs to those who could affect the change, allowed for some clarity and some clouds to be lifted. It can be empowering to know that you still have a say in your life, even when you feel overwhelmed.  I want to ensure that whether someone is going through a loss, dealing with stressful paperwork or the joy of gaining a family member they are not alone in the process and hopefully can make your day, and your paperwork, a little bit clearer!

Monica Fitzpatrick

Monica Fitzpatrick, BA, JD

Student at Law

Skip to content