Death and Valentine’s Day

I'm all prepared.

February 14, 2026

I remember being stuck at home in the middle of a blizzard on previous Valentine’s Days, but today was sunny and warm, almost springlike.

So after hosting an online writing workshop led by the incomparable Sandra Phinney this morning, my husband and I enjoyed a delicious Vietnamese-style sandwich at Banh Mi Bready in Moncton, and then went for a quick jaunt out of town along Route 114, which, as part of the coastal Bay of Fundy drive, is my favourite place in the world.

We stopped at Wendy Johnston’s Fine Art Gallery in Hopewell Cape to have a look around, where she sells her own fine pottery and artwork, and a selection of excellent jewellery, pottery, art and other crafts from around Atlantic Canada. Those of you who know me personally—and you are likely the only people reading this blog—know that I am an incredible sucker for pottery.

I don’t need it, but I can’t get enough of it.

My house overflows with mugs, bowls, teapots.... Some people collect role playing figurines, souvenir spoons, or antique rolling pins, but I collect handcrafted pottery.

Today, the first thing I spotted was this beautiful, small blue, tree-carved vessel, with bare pottery feet and a lid featuring a gorgeous tree in relief. “A tree of life,” I whispered.

I have a thing for this image.

Right now, it’s filled with Valentine’s chocolates.

Being that Revelation Chapter 22 in the New Testament is the beautiful chapter of restoration, with the Tree of Life at the centre of the New Jerusalem, the City of God, this is meaningful to me. I have tried to paint Revelation 22 with limited success, meaning, it didn’t turn out like I imagined, but I still think about trying. I’m continually captivated by this hopeful image, and when I noticed this small, oval dish today, my husband saw the stars in my eyes and bought it for me as a gift.

My Tree of Life. Some years ago, my mother looked at my landscape paintings on the wall, and murmured that she liked some of them, but she stopped short at this attempt at a Tree of Life saying, “What is this thing? That looks terrible.” Oh well. Who can you count on for honesty, if not your mother?

I felt guilty about the cost, but Wendy explained that the Sackville potter who made it is named Margaret Ann Capper, who is apparently soon to retire. This made me feel better, because I figure that I just purchased a limited edition artistic item that will become a conversation piece over the years. When we brought it to the cash, I said, “I’m not sure what I want to do with it, but I love it.”

As Wendy wrapped it in bubble plastic, she said, a little shyly, “well, not to be morbid…but you could use it as an urn.”

I was dumbfounded. To keep someone’s ashes in? All the air bubbled out of my balloon. “I just liked the lid,” I replied, weakly. “I liked the tree on the top. Like the tree of life, you know.”

“Yeah—the tree of life,” she said, slowly, meaningfully.

Oh. Now I get it.

The lid.

Did the artisan intend it to be a vessel to store a loved one’s ashes in perpetuity? It’s quite small – for a pet, maybe?

When I looked up Margaret’s information online, I found some of her available products on the Handworks Gallery studio website from Sackville.

Yep - Chock full of different kinds of urns. Larger than the one I bought, but definitely…yeah. My husband bought me an urn for Valentine’s Day.

I’m gonna call it a sugar bowl.