The Dog Star and its Pup

As I reflect upon Michael's life and replay memories of him on this 13th anniversary of his death, I'm feeling especially close to his soul due to some intriguing information I learned just this week. 

Six years ago, I had discovered his soul name when he appeared during my profound Life between Lives experience. During hypnosis, the name Sirius was communicated to me by his soul being. I knew that to be the name of a star, but when I saw it spelled out in white letters in my mind's eye, it read Cirius. I immediately started laughing because I recognized his great sense of humour coming through. Of course it would be spelled with a C instead of an S. He was playing with me, and with the homonym 'serious', which was pretty well the opposite of who he was, most of the time. Funny guy!

A few days ago, after a short meditation, I became curious about the star. As it turns out, Sirius is a binary star located in the constellation Canis Major.  Sirius A, also known as the Dog Star, is the brightest in the night sky! Sirius B, affectionately called the Pup Star, is its white dwarf companion. What a scene that conjures up in my mind. Michael and Diesel, best buds here on earth, now possibly the Dog and its Pup hanging out in the universe together, their star energy shining brightly! 

Body and Soul

 

     Awoke to a bright, blue sky morning. A walk in the sunshine along the ocean later today wins out over an indoor swim at the local pool.  The sun lights up the floating shelf in the den, dedicated to pictures and mementos of Michael, as well as Kelly. Knowing it had been quite some time since I last dusted up there, I grabbed a cloth, and one by one, removed each piece in order to clean them, as well as the shelf itself. 

     I reflected on the memory of each precious item: the photo of the two of them at our oldest daughter's rehearsal dinner, a candle I had lit for Kelly at a Compassionate Friends event, a picture of Michael as a young teen, another of him as an adult, a starfish decoration representing "as above, so below" from a dear friend, a silk butterfly from a floral arrangement sent by a salon owner I had only met a few times, the framed Post-it Note Michael had written to remind the two of them what had to be dealt with before they departed the cabin that fateful morning, and a tiny crystal bowl cradling found pennies, feathers, a baby picture, and more. 

     Midway through this process, it dawned on me that the sadness that had been creeping into my body and soul over these past few days was most certainly due to the fact that the anniversary date of the accident was looming. In nine days, we will be at the ten year marker. A decade since he passed. The word decade has weight, representing a significant span of time with respect to human life, but of course, with respect to grief, it means little. One year, five years, ten years, it hardly matters ... none of the anniversaries really feel much easier than the others.

www.diaryofanintuitive.com

Signs of Support

     Tomorrow marks the 8th anniversary of Michael's death. Rather than taking flowers to Boal Memorial on the actual date, as I have in the past, this year I decided ahead of time that I would go this morning - a mental health choice that I felt would make tomorrow a little easier and more uplifting.
     A few weeks ago, a friend of mine invited me to participate in a community fundraiser - an afternoon Scrabble Tournament taking place on March 7th to raise money for grandmothers in Africa. My husband and I play Scrabble most evenings so I knew it could be an enjoyable event and said "yes", grateful for the distraction, the opportunity to support a good cause, and knowing I would have the support of this friend on a trigger day, another mother who lives with the loss of a child. Later this month will mark seven years since her adult daughter's accidental death.
     This morning, my plan was to walk my younger daughter's chocolate lab Barrett (related to Diesel and born four days before the fatal accident involving Mike, Kelly and Diesel), along the river for about an hour, then take him with me to Boal, which would be his first time there.  After getting into my car (which was parked in the carport), I reached over to close my door when I noticed one small feather lying on the ground nearby. Smiling to myself, I reached down and picked it up, then placed it on the seat beside me - thankful for this little sign.
     After fetching Barrett, I drove to Bridgeman Park, located beside Lynn Creek. Due to the ongoing construction in the area, I had not been there since last spring but today, it felt like the right place to go. I parked the car, leashed up the dog and let him out. He instantly beelined it to a fence post about 30 metres away, to take a pee. As I stood there waiting for him, I looked up at the post and could hardly believe my eyes -  a small, pink heart resting near the top! Obviously, the perfect spot for our walk together today.
     After our river walk, we visited Boal, then after dropping him off, I headed home. Later, I picked up my granddaughter after school and brought her back to my house. She immediately noticed the feather I had now placed on my kitchen counter and told me she had found one that looked exactly the same. Reaching into her backpack, she pulled out a twin feather. When I asked her about it, she told me she had found it while walking along Mosquito Creek during her class field trip this morning, put it into her pocket until she got back to school, then into her knapsack for safekeeping! The signs and loving energy of the day filled my well, placing me in good stead for tomorrow.
www.diaryofanintuitive.com

Seven Years

     Yesterday marked seven years without his physical presence, but now that March 7th has passed, the nausea and deep fatigue that set in earlier this week is beginning to wane.
     The sun was kind enough to make an appearance for my weekly forest walk with the chocolate lab yesterday morning. Strolling along the creekside trail, taking it slow for a change, fully present to nature's healing elements. Recognizing and breathing in the early signs of spring, of renewal. Chirping birds, filtered sunshine, purling creek, and flowering bulbs bursting forth through the decay -  sights and sounds to nourish my soul.
     For dinner, as we have done on each anniversary, our family replicated the simple meal of chicken fajitas that Michael and Kelly had prepared for us the evening before they left for that fateful cabin weekend. A meaningful way for us to mark this day.
    With yesterday behind us, and spring just around the corner, we embrace the additional light and renewed life before us. 
www.diaryofanintuitive.com

Chocolate Heart

   

     "Could you please bring me home a little box of chocolates from Thomas Haas on your way home?", I had texted my husband. Anyone who knows me knows I love chocolate, but I had never put out this request. It would be a small treat to help get me through this very challenging day - the anniversary of the death of our son.      

     Thankfully, he was only going in to work for a few hours today, and I was happy to see him arrive home mid-afternoon. When he presented me with the box of four chocolates, I instantly noticed the one 💖shaped one . When I asked him if he had chosen these particular four, he answered that he had not, he had just picked up a prepacked box. Heart-shaped chocolates are not listed on the package insert nor included among the twenty-eight described on their website. Immense gratitude for this sweet gift of love energy.

www.diaryofanintuitive.com

Open Circle

      Since early this year, I have been lacking inspiration to write, and for the past couple of weeks, experienced increasing anxiety regarding the upcoming 6th anniversary of my son's death. A few days ago, I realized that in order to bolster my link with the metaphysical realm, I needed to attend an Open Circle, something I had not done for well over a year. And so, I did.

     Seven of us, including the facilitator, began with a healing meditation - for the group, for friends and acquaintances, for the entire planet. This was followed by a lengthy guided visualization, and concluded with mediumship and sharing messages for each other. 

     To see and feel Michael's presence during my visualization was a huge source of comfort and support. He presented as his 25-year-old self, and was so "alive" with enthusiasm, smiling and emanating immense joy. It was obvious that he was as happy to see me as I was to see him. During our time together, it felt like a case of role reversal -  as if I were the child and he the parent, showing me the way. Later, when it came time to share our experiences with the group, I learned that he even showed up in someone else's visualization. 

     At the end of the evening, there were several wonderful messages for me from other circle participants, all of which served to strengthen the relationship with my son.

    Along with a renewed desire to write, those inspiring three hours of deep spiritual connection with Michael resulted in relieving some of my anxiety and filling my being with joy and contentment. So glad I followed through on my intuition to attend - a powerful evening with lasting impact.

www.diaryofanintuitive.com

Blue Roses

When I saw the blue ice-cream cake sitting in the freezer display through a cafe window, I knew it would be the perfect dessert for the family dinner we had planned for the fourth anniversary of Michael's death.  It would be last on my list of options for any other celebration, but for this occasion it would be perfect, since it reminded me so much of my son.  If most people typically chose A or B, he would usually opt for C, D, or even E, instead.  Why give a girl the more traditional pink or red roses, when the unnaturally dyed blue ones were beckoning with a wink?  Why concern yourself with making healthy food choices, when junk food, with all its additives and colouring, was calling?  So, on Saturday night, we each enjoyed a piece of this crazy cake in his name. And, if we needed a physical reminder of his sense of humour, we were all left with blue-stained fingers well into the next day. We love and miss you Mike!

www.diaryofanintuitive.com

Holding the Pieces Together

Over the past few weeks, as I occasionally considered the approaching second anniversary of Michael's death, I noticed that my feelings of dread were not as overwhelming as they were last year, and for that I was grateful.  Then suddenly, this morning, I hit the emotional wall.  I had set aside time to unpack a few more boxes and clean the house in preparation for our family dinner tomorrow.  I was missing him terribly, so during the housework, I decided to blast the music that had played at his service.  I had not heard this CD for the better part of a year.  A few songs in, over the noisy vacuum cleaner, I was startled by a shattering noise.  When I looked over to where the sound had come from, I saw one of the glass candle holders from the top shelf lying broken on the floor, reduced to shattered fragments.  It had been one of a matching pair given to me a few months after the tragedy - one honouring Michael and the other for Kelly.  I picked up the remains of the base, and even before I turned it over to check the initial on the bottom, I knew it would be an M.  That is when the floodgates opened. When I tried to make sense of what had happened, I realized that the music speaker was on a lower shelf and the vibration must have shaken the one candle holder off.  Was it an accident or something more?  It was definitely a reflection of the shattered feelings I was experiencing. Tomorrow I plan on going to yoga, then babysitting my granddaughter, followed by spending time with my family.  This will all contribute in helping to hold my pieces together.

Love From My Son

Reflecting on something wonderful that happened in the early morning on the recent anniversary of Michael's passing.  Lying awake in bed, well before six.  Trying to decide whether or not to get up. Thinking about how early it was and how nice it would be to fall back to sleep after such a restless night.  Moments later seeing Michael's head appear directly beside mine.  Almost touching, cheek to cheek.  Hearing him whisper, "I love you Mom," directly into my ear.  Twice.  Feeling the love behind the words flood through my entire body.  Reminding me of that deep connection we continue to share.  The next conscious thought as I continued to lie awake was, " What would Mikey do?"  The answer came swiftly and clearly.  He would roll over and go right back to sleep!  Which I promptly did for two more hours.  Another amazing gift from spirit.

Last of the Firsts

Well, here it is.  March 7th showing itself once again.  This time, marking the first anniversary of Michael's passing.  Committing early on to fully experiencing this grieving process.  Giving myself the gift of this entire first year.  Without any expectation of what it might look or feel like.  Not pushing anything away.  Greatly appreciating the luxury of being able to do so.  Now having a personal reference point for an entire year's worth of emotionally charged days this life altering event presented.  A milestone of sorts.  Saying goodbye to the last of the firsts.

Conflicted

Collecting ideas about how to best mark the one year anniversary next week.  The obvious visit to Boal Memorial.  Then gathering here at home with his sisters and brothers-in-law for mutual emotional support.  Relighting the gold candles used at his service.  Watching family videos.  Perhaps working on that unfinished puzzle Michael and Kelly had started, still lingering under the chair.  For dinner, ordering Chinese or preparing chicken fajitas.  The latter option reflecting the meal they created for us the day before leaving for their last cabin weekend.  Later, possibly playing a game together.   All simple but meaningful activities.  Connecting us to memories and the energy of our son and brother.  However, behind all this planning, certainly feeling conflicted.  On the one hand, focusing on honouring how much he meant to us and how deeply he is missed.  On the other, desperately wishing he were physically here instead. 

Sense of Unease

It began a few days ago.  This underlying sense of unease.  Anticipating the first anniversary of my son's death.  Not dwelling on it but definitely feeling anxious.  Surprised to discover this heightened emotional state beginning already.  The actual date still three weeks away.  Reassuring myself that like the difficult days that have gone before, this too shall pass.  Contemplating meaningful ways for our family to mark the occasion.  A part of me wishing I could already be on the other side of that weighted day.   

Nine Months

Doing the math.  Three quarters of the way through this first year. Anticipating the challenges that still lie ahead.  More birthdays without them, including hers and his.  Celebrating Christmas and New Years. Then Valentine's Day, followed by the one year anniversary.  Mulling over ways to best honour the occasions.  Striving to incorporate love and joy into each of these events.  Providing some balance to the obvious sadness of missing them. 

Princess Kelly

Flipping through photo albums on this half year anniversary.  Encountering numerous pictures of her sweet face.  'Princess', the word that comes to mind.  Not the high maintenance kind.  Far from it.  Kelly was stunningly beautiful, inside and out.  A unique combination of girly girl and tomboy.  Such a sweet nature.  Sparkling blue eyes.  Radiant smile.  Long glossy brown hair.  Always gorgeous, no matter what she wore.  And most importantly, a heart filled with love for so many.  This her eternal gift to us all.

Another Milestone

Today marks our 32nd wedding anniversary.  Also, four months precisely since that fateful day.  My husband and I will commemorate by delivering the cheque to Canuck Place Children's Hospice. Then, an intimate lunch somewhere.  Acknowledging the efforts and gifts of each other.  Celebrating what we have created together.