Life, Love, and Loss

     While practicing yoga in my She Shed this morning, I acknowledged the beauty of the rainy weather visible through the glass door, as I reflected on the intense ups and downs of this past week. A roller coaster of emotions to process on the mat.
     It began Monday morning, with a call informing me that my brother had been admitted to hospital due to suspected heart attack symptoms. I spent the day sending both him and his wife loving energy, knowing that whatever transpired in there, it would be without the support of any visitors at all.
     Tuesday, I received an encouraging update on his health, along with the good news that a procedure had been scheduled. Then, deciding I needed a hit of grandkids, I hopped on my bike with coffee tumbler in hand, to my older daughter's home for an outdoor visit, all of us maintaining our two metre spacing.
     Wednesday, a COVID wedding with five of us present and physically distancing, of course.  No matter how big or small, officiating wedding ceremonies always brings me joy. Then later in the day, a treasured conversation with my younger daughter, hearing about her rich metaphysical experiences.
     Thursday morning, a message from my brother that he was feeling good and going home. A huge sense of relief. Then after lunch, I walked down to the village to tie a bouquet to my mother's memorial bench so that it would be in place for the following day's anniversary of her death. 
     Friday, I enjoyed a morning forest walk with my husband, reminiscing about my mom and thinking about how much I wished she could still be part of our lives. Then after our lunch, the two of us drove out to the valley for an overdue visit with my brother and his wife, during which we chatted for over four hours, seated around their backyard fire pit. So grateful for the chance to see them in person.  
     Saturday afternoon, I had the immerse pleasure of officiating two more weddings, both outdoors under dry skies.
     And then, Sunday. With three outdoor weddings scheduled, it would be a full day. After the first one, I had a couple of hours free, so I returned a missed call from a young friend. Sadly, I was informed that Kelly's dad had died unexpectedly, on Friday evening. My heart immediately went out to his family in particular, now thrust once again into that painful state of the newly grieving. I had the honour of being the celebrant at his marriage. Now, less than four years later, he has returned to the in-between, reunited with his daughter.
     A few hours later, after returning home from the third wedding, I sat down to relax with a glass of wine. Scrolling through social media, I saw the article that I knew my husband had recently been interviewed for by the local paper. Well written, it was primarily about my husband's sense of humour as expressed on the sign mounted outside his business here in our community. However, partway through, still within the context of the story, there was reference made to Mike and Kelly's deaths. So of course, the tears started flowing.
     A week filled with deeply emotional experiences of life, love, and death. All clear reminders of what really matters.
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Image credit: Gordon Johnson, Pixabay

Relative Signs

     This past week was filled with incredible synchronicity, revolving around the two themes of communication and family of origin. The family that I chose to be born into has not been without its challenges, as is the case with most, if not all, families. Family is where so much of our learning occurs, offering great opportunities for growth. The circumstances in my family of origin led to our current situation, where neither my brother (my only sibling) nor I have had any contact with my father for over six years (outside of my son's funeral), the consequence of heartbreaking communication. Our mother, with whom my brother and I were close, died nearly thirteen years ago. Numerous signs flooded in this week, dancing over, and around, all of this - unmistakably powerful and incredibly supportive. 

     Early in the week, I emailed birthday greetings to a paternal aunt who had been a huge part of my life, before cutting off all communication with me, without explanation, a year and a half ago. I think of her often. About an hour after sending that email, I received a phone call from an unknown number. The caller turned out to be a woman I had met once, seventeen years ago, at a birthday party I had hosted for this aunt. The woman explained that she had been an old friend of my aunt's for decades but had had no contact with her for many years now, having been cut off without any explanation. She thought of her often and was contacting me to find out how she was doing. Crazy circumstances, indeed.

     A few days later, I was following up after a call I had made the week before to my mother's only sibling, my maternal aunt in Germany. I wrote her a card, enclosing a photo of her sister's memorial bench, as well as a picture of my grandchildren. She is the only relative I have long-standing, albeit limited, contact with over there. Our communication consists primarily of an annual Christmas card to each other, but for some reason, I had felt the urge to call her.  Later this same day, with the envelope lying on my desk, still waiting to be mailed, I received a Facebook friend request from a woman in Germany, a daughter of one my father's friends, not connected to my maternal aunt at all. The last time I had had any contact with that person and her family was during our family vacation to that country, eighteen years ago. Curious timing, for sure.

     Then, on the weekend, I stopped in at the cemetery, an hour's drive from home, to place flowers on my mother's grave. I only visit a couple of times a year now, preferring to adorn her memorial bench located in my neighbourhood, instead.  The actual date of this particular visit had no significance - I just happened to be out that way for a dinner date with friends. A short time later, my brother texted me, wanting to confirm the date of our mother's birthday. I fleetingly thought he was joking since he always makes a point of acknowledging our family birthdays. When I asked him about it, he told me that he had been thinking about our mom and had momentarily forgotten when hers was. A brief memory lapse required in order for this loving connection to be made.

     Individually, each of these three days had great significance. Taken in its entirety, the week was over the top, and made a huge impression. A colleague of mine refers to these signs as Relative signs, since they relate to what is transpiring in ones life. The fact that the Relative signs happened to involve my relatives, is perfect. Feeling immensely supported by the visible and invisible, I continue to process it all.

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Love is in the Air

Love is in the air. Last weekend, Kelly's oldest brother announced his engagement, the first of her siblings to do so. Five days later, Kelly's best friend and her fiancé won a dream wedding package, due in part to the overwhelming vote of support from community. Kelly had met both prospective partners before she passed and is surely beyond thrilled that these two couples are now making plans to marry. Undoubtedly, her loving energy will make its unmistakable presence known at these upcoming weddings. Such is the power of spirit.

Growing Together

     Yesterday, I met up for lunch with my brother, my sole sibling.  It made my day.  We live an hour's drive apart and even though we see each other when our families get together a couple of times a year, meeting up for lunch is something my brother and I do every few months as well.  Just the two of us.  It was not always so.   

     In the early years we were close, sharing a bedroom and playing together most of the time.  We grew apart in our teens as we developed contrasting interests and hobbies -  not uncommon for a sister and brother.  As young adults busy raising families, we rarely saw each other outside of familial obligations such as Christmas and birthday dinners.  Misunderstandings, as well as taxing birth family dynamics, contributed to keeping us from wanting to connect outside of these events.  
     Then, life began throwing us opportunities to turn our relationship around.  The first noticeable shift began a decade ago, after our mother's death, when we occasionally began spending time together outside of the expected family get-togethers.  During that time, my teen-aged son began developing a deep bond with his adored uncle, which led to my brother and I connecting more often.  Four years ago, our relationship was further strengthened when we simultaneously became estranged from our father.  That was when our lunch dates became more regular.  We finally understood how much we mattered to each other.  Then, Michael's death occurred, which subsequently deepened the connection between my brother and me, to the point where we now check in with each other every couple of weeks.      
     My brother and I still have very different interests and hobbies.  Our lifestyles do not have much in common, either.  However, through facing our shared family challenges together, we have now arrived in a place where we do not take each other for granted, support each other in everything we do, and are fully aware that the other has our back - valuable gifts we have gained from our losses.  

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. 

Reassuring Experience

Michael coming through to visit his sisters.  Dog by his side, at the ISA last night.  Sharing specific and detailed messages with his energy. Including a shout-out to his dad as well.  Leaving no doubt as to the identity of this, their brother's, spirit.  Another reassuring experience demonstrating the continued existence of beings.  Clearly remaining connected to each other.

Gathering at the Tree

This coming Sunday.  Our daughters, son-in-laws, my husband and I meeting up.  Decorating a mini Christmas tree together.  Starting this annual tradition at Oma's graveside ten Christmases ago.  Symbolically sharing the holidays with someone we loved.  Lighting candles clipped to the branches.  Singing German carols.  Recounting memories. Moving the occasion to Boal Memorial this year.  Using the same tree Michael helped decorate last December.  Adding some new ornaments for our brother and son.  Kelly and Diesel too.  Knowing my mother will happily meet us there.  All gathering together. 

Living with Death

Parents grieving the death of a child.  Sisters mourning the loss of their brother.  Friends deeply missing one of their own.  This morning's paper filled with stories mirroring ours.  Human beings dealing with these inescapable human experiences, each in their own way.  Learning how to live with death.  Something asked of each one of us the moment we chose to be born.