Moving On?

Moving on.  Well-meaning individuals tossing versions of this phrase into conversations.  With regards to grieving the death of my son.  "I'm glad to see you're moving on."  Implying leaving something behind.  As if putting it somewhere in the past is the answer.  Not relating to that concept at all.  Not moving anywhere.  Living with it.  Choosing to be in the present as much as possible.  Experiencing what is, right now. Extremely sad that Michael is gone.  Beyond description.  Living with that reality.  This not something that can change.  At the same time, loving the presence of my granddaughter.  Lucky enough to be kissing and holding her often.  Appreciating that immensely.  Grief and joy co-existing daily.  One not precluding the other.  Moving on?  Not part of the equation.

Comforting Communication

Enjoying a glass of wine in these waning moments of this summer solstice evening.  Alone with lights dimmed.  Cherishing the warm glow of a beautifully decorated candle.  One covered in a delicate swirling pattern of sage and coral.  Sitting here reflecting on the moving events at the ISA tonight.  Receiving a message from my son.  Him describing a forest scene with sun shining through the trees.  Exactly where I had been running this morning.  Making reference to our communication there.  Something we always engage in.  Expressing his joy in being able to stay connected.  Passing on encouragement.   Knowing I need it.  My mother coming through as well.  Later, taking my turn up on the platform.  Practising mediumship.  Bringing a message through for someone else in the audience.  Thankful to be learning to serve in this way.  Then upon leaving, speaking to a woman whom I had never met.  Learning she is also living with the experience of losing a child.  Finding great comfort in our conversation.  Both of us wondering aloud what this journey would look like without the spiritual awareness.  Agreeing it would likely be very grim indeed.  Instead, so grateful to know what we know.

Impressive Shot

Another amazing unexplainable occurrence.  Out on the golf course for the MGMG tournament last weekend.  Playing a Texas Scramble format.  In a foursome including one of Mike's friends, a cabin neighbour.  The two of them spending much time together over the years.  Including occasionally golfing together on this same course. This young man, a passable golfer, now teeing off at #7, our final hole. Taking his drive with a Nike brand ball.  Pulling the shot, causing the ball to veer off to the left.  Assuming to find it less than a third of the way down this 435 yard fairway, somewhere in the rough.  All four of us searching for quite some time, without any luck.  Finally leaving it, and finishing out that hole.  Then both carts making their way back to the clubhouse to meet up with all the others who had already completed the course.  His sister and I leading the way along the #8 fairway.  Spotting a ball up ahead.  Lying out in plain view.  Driving closer to investigate. Realizing it was a Nike ball!  Doing the math.  Coming up short.  What we were looking at seemed impossible.  Well over 5o0 yards to this spot. At least 150 yards further than a pro would make.  The second cart soon joining us.  The young man confirming it was his ball.  All of us looking at each other, completely dumbfounded.  A sign from Mike to his friend?  One currently going through some personal challenges. The four of us returning to the parking lot.  Sharing our story with fellow golfers.  Trying to comprehend the experience.  Laughing at the playfulness and impressive nature of that event.

Taking Flight

Spending the day at the cabin alone.  Finishing up some chores.  Then relaxing in the sun.  Basking in the loving energy of the weekend. Feeling its imprint upon this space.  At its peak, seventy-one of us gathering to share old memories.  Creating many new ones as well. The last of the group leaving this morning.  Those baby birds who had been chirping in the birdhouse all weekend deciding it was time as well. Taking their first flight this afternoon.  Embarking on the next experience before them.  Leaving the comfort and safety of the nest behind.

Bird on a Wire

As the saying goes, it is often the little things.  Walking along the mountainside power line trail.  Tail wagging Gulliver eagerly accompanying me.  Light rain with cool temperatures.  Definitely not uplifting weather.  With each step, carrying the emotional weight of preparing for the upcoming golf tournament.  Appreciating how wonderful it will be to all spend time together.  Simultaneously acknowledging the complex feelings it brings to the fore.  Midway along the journey, slowing down to send a message to the universe. Gazing skyward while humbly requesting dry weather for the weekend. Seconds later noticing a tiny bird perched high above.  On one of the electrical wires.  Suspended more than fifteen metres above the earth. Recognizing it to be an exquisite hummingbird.  Fluffing its feathers. Putting on quite a show.  Instantly sensing a shift in my disposition. Welcoming this reoccurring symbol of connection.  So grateful to be noticing it.  Very much appreciating its presence.  This small being making a huge impact.  With a lighter heart and bounce in my step, sending a smile of thanks for this magnificent moment.

Reconnecting

Attending a funeral at Boal Memorial last Tuesday.  For the mother of one of Mike and Kelly's good friends.  First time back in that chapel since Michael's service.  So many familiar faces.  Seeing Kelly's family, along with numerous young men and women experiencing that great loss last year.  Personally finding great comfort in reconnecting with them all.  Despite the sad circumstances.  Then later, flowers in hand, walking up the pathway into the forest alone.  Towards the two plaques positioned side by side on the wall.  Surprised and thoroughly heartened by the sight of so many of Kelly and Mike's friends already there. Followed by many more joining in.  Recounting stories.  Some tears. And laughter.  Punctuated by quiet reflection.  All acutely feeling loss. Then one young woman reaching down to the ground.  Picking up a penny lying beside a pot of flowers.  Directly in front of the plaques. Holding up the coin to show me.  The two of us shaking our heads in amazement.  Sharing a smile.  Recognizing and appreciating the ongoing marvels.