Miracle Log

     Serendipity, coincidence, happy chance event... words used to describe the small miracles that make our lives a little sweeter. Lucky for me, I experience them almost daily. Having a dream about a person I had not thought about for years, only to have someone else mention that same person the next morning. Looking for a small box of goofy sunglasses everywhere I thought it might be, then finding it later that day, within in a larger box marked 'small picture frames' which I had opened for an unrelated project of creating a photo wall. Receiving tickets, out of the blue, to a sold out event I had wanted to attend.

     One way to to help foster this awareness in children is to keep a Miracle Log available. I came across this idea while reading Spirit Games, a book by Barbara Sher. Whenever something serendipitous occurs, anyone in the family can log in by writing down what happened. It can also include the wish that preceded the event, if there was one. There seems to be a snowball affect - the more often these little miracles are noticed, the more often they appear. Keeping track of them can help bring children comfort and joy, and heaven knows, we all thrive when showered with frequent doses of both.

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Sweet Dreams

     
     Dreams are precious gifts. The messages contained therein can prompt me to take action, provide more information about a situation regarding myself or others, and offer comfort and support.  Occasionally, I am asked if I still have dreams about Michael, and although I would love to have more than the two or three per year that I do, I am grateful for the ones I do have. A few nights ago, it was a short and sweet one, but the dream before that was quite long and involved. In both cases, they were very realistic and easy to understand.
     The lengthier dream of a few months ago involved my husband and I returning to our car after an invigorating walk around Stanley Park. After both getting in, he slowly drove in the car reverse, against the one way traffic pattern of the road. We encountered many vehicles but no one honked - they all accommodated us by moving out of the way. In the next scene, it is just my three-year-old son and me near an outdoor shower at the playground. He is only wearing shorts, ones that an acquaintance had actually made, and on his sweet face is the sweaty glow from running around. I soon realize that in all his excitement he has accidentally pooped his pants, and that he is feeling both embarrassed and upset. I calmly try to figure out the best way to handle the situation but the overwhelming thought is that I am thoroughly unprepared, and how disappointed I am with myself about that. (When my children were young, I was never without extra clothes, bags, snacks, you name it - however, in the dream I had absolutely nothing with me). After some consideration, I decided to take off his pants and have him stand under the shower. What a mess. There was poop everywhere - on him, on me. I looked around and finally found a stray plastic bag for his soiled shorts and was now literally carrying a bag of shit. As I stood there, I could feel how upset he was. He felt responsible for causing this mess. As a mom, I knew that shit happened, accidents happened. I just wanted to pick up my naked son and carry him back to the car but before I could do that, the dream was over and I awoke with the clear understanding of his sympathy. Through this dream, Michael was expressing compassion for having left me holding this bag of shit, even though we both know it was unavoidable.
     The shorter dream I had on Friday night was set in a dimly lit restaurant where our family was gathered for brunch to commemorate the fourth anniversary of Michael's death. I was seated alone at one end of the table, lost in my thoughts. Suddenly, I looked up and there was Michael, aged twenty-five, walking towards me, handsome as ever in his grey suit, green shirt and tie. He sat down to my right, handed me a Caesar cocktail, and simply said, "Here Mom."  (The only time I might order this drink for myself is if one of my kids orders one, but even then, rarely). And then, he was gone. I instantly understood that this was his way of showing support and I sure was glad to feel his presence. 

     Sweet dreams .... until next time. 
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Gifts from Spirit

Last Wednesday, while seated in the audience awaiting an evening of ISA mediumship demonstrations, I silently asked the spirits of my loved ones to draw close.  My younger daughter had a strong desire to attend this event in order to absorb some of that lovely supportive energy, and perhaps receive a message as well, so here we were.  We listened as various people were given detailed and loving guidance from spirit. Near the end of the two hour session, the medium (who had no personal knowledge of my daughter, me, or my son) came to me and began describing a spirit that sounded like my son, but it was when she said, "He's like a big kid," that it was confirmed.  The message Michael communicated was that he admired my ability to thoroughly prepare for, then commit to activities, which was in direct contrast to what had been his approach - that of enthusiastically trying new things, with little or no preparation.  This usually resulted in giving up within a week because invariably, the situation failed to play out the way he imagined it would. He recommended I try finding a balance between our two approaches by easing up a little on the planning aspects of projects, and incorporating a little more risk and sense of adventure into my life, not always concerning myself with having all my "ducks in a row" (his words).  He suggested that this might add more fun to my life.  Before leaving, Michael sent both my daughter and me a huge, joyful hug.  After thanking the medium for the much appreciated message, I left feeling that often the bigger gift from an evening such as this is the comfort I receive experiencing further confirmation of spirit's eternal existence.

Friend to Friend

Other than going out for an invigorating run through the canyon this morning, I spent most of the day working on my book, a rewarding, yet emotionally challenging project.  Again today, I thought about how grateful I am that my best friend is dedicating hours upon hours of her free time to edit this book.  Even though there is still much to do before it gets published, thanks to her, I can see light at the end of the tunnel.  Then late this afternoon, I received a surprise message from a young woman I have never met.  This friend of Kelly's, now living in the Okanagan, had communicated with me only once before, via Facebook last year.  She was now contacting me to share her delight in recently finding out that one of her new co-workers happened to be a good friend of Mike's.  These two discovered their astonishing connection after the young man explained where he lived - across the street from our family's cabin.  My heart soared as I read about this crazy, wonderful association, and I can well imagine the comfort and stories they will share.  Support can come from those we have known for years, as well as from those we hardly know, and all of it is greatly appreciated.   

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.

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.

Thirteen Months

Thirteen months today.  Spending this morning working on the 2nd Annual Mike Gibson Golf Tournament to be held in early June.  Then heading over to Boal Memorial to pay my respects.  His dad golfing with friends on this beautiful sunny day.  Wearing a sweater that belonged his son.  Finding a measure of comfort in that.  

Embodiment of Love

Dearest Kelly, you were the living embodiment of love.  Reflected in your warm smile and expressive eyes.  Readily felt by anyone in your presence.  Today marks the passing of an entire year without you.  Such a beautiful person greatly missed by so very many.  Friends and family trying to adjust to living with the void left behind.  Necessitating the creation of a revised connection to you.  Seeking comfort in the numerous memories alive in our hearts and minds.  Feeling uplifted when recognizing the loving signs that continue to appear.  Enabling us to stay linked with your spirit forever.

Comfortable and Comforting

Pulled out the winter boots.  White suede, grey rubber, red trim. Olympics 2010 edition Sorels.  Purchased to wear while volunteering for those winter events last year.  Guaranteed to keep me cozy and warm while trekking along the trail with my companion later this morning. The last time they were worn was nine months ago.  But not by me. During that first weekend in March.  Unbeknownst to me, Michael had packed them for Kelly to use up at the cabin.  For walking around the frozen lake and playing in the snow.  Wanting her to be comfortable. Personally anticipating a sense of comfort when wearing these boots again.  Looking forward to walking with them.

Side By Side

Their remains now finally resting in peace, side by side.  Finding a significant measure of comfort in this.  Michael and Kelly so deeply connected in this lifetime.  Belonging together.  This a physical symbol of that.  In the aftermath of calamity, it can be the little things that matter. 

Providing Comfort

In conversation with one of Kelly's dear friends.  Discussing the reluctance of co-workers to mention Kelly's name.   Not speaking of their colleague who has passed.  Perhaps afraid of upsetting this friend. Fearing they may cause additional heartache.  If only they could be reassured that the tears and sadness come regardless.  That is our reality when we have lost someone we loved. The irony is that they would actually provide comfort by sharing a memory or remarking how much they miss her smile and cheerful disposition.  Hearing others speak of our loved one actually helps ease the pain.  Knowing they mattered to others.  That they are missed.  That they will not be forgotten.

Heartwarming Time Together

The comfort of turkey soup.  Made with love.  Enjoying a bowl on this rainy day back home.  Reflecting on the weekend.  Missing his energy, wit and one liners.  Fondly reflecting on his winning ways while playing various games.  Cribbage, Skip-Bo, Game of Things, Bean Bag Toss, Yahtzee.  All of us spending hours on these pastimes.  Warmed by an ever burning fire and each other.  Anecdotes of Michael weaving their way through our time together.  Plenty of joy and laughter interspersed with pangs of sadness while continuing to adapt to this new scenario.   A heartwarming time overall.

Wrapped in Comfort

Enjoying  a mug of coffee up at the lake.  Sitting in lotus pose on the wicker chair outdoors.  A chill in this early morning air.  Afghan draped over my legs.  One my mother knit many years ago.  Something she loved to do.  Finding a welcoming home here after she died.  Beiges and browns.  Subtle zigzag pattern.  Practical.  Nothing flashy or showy at all.  Resting on the back of the sofa till needed.  Always ready to be pulled into service.  Offering warmth and comfort to all.  My mother's energy expressed in this treasured blanket.  Wrapped up in it, feeling that connection each and every time.

Spirit Revival

Feeling somewhat beat up this morning.  Imagining this may be akin to having gone ten rounds.  The result of having watched the DVD of his service for the first time.  Mind, body and soul reliving that event of five and a half months ago.  Will not be choosing to do that very often.  Next up, meditation.  To revive my spirit and regain my equilibrium. Breathing deeply into that love connection accessed from within my heart. Where peace and comfort are waiting to be found.

One Full, One Still Empty

With the installation of his ashes and plaque complete, it was time to visit.  Last week, my husband and I together.  Unsure of what to expect.  Another 'first' in a line of many.  Pleasantly surprised.  Emotional of course, but not undone.  Standing there with the knowledge that these were only the fragments of his earthly remains.  That his spirit would always be connected to mine.  Feeling the love behind the eight words we had chosen to capture what we hoped he would be remembered for.  Your smile, laughter and caring heart touched many.  Then yesterday, ventured over again, alone.  Gazed at the round space in the wall, directly beside his.  The one meant for Kelly.  Still empty, unmarked.  Disappointment and anxiety creeping in, wondering if the plan will still go ahead.  That their remains be laid to rest side by side.  Understanding that in the big picture, it will not be end of the world if it does not come to pass.  To help comfort my heart however, very much hoping it will.

( Update: I received confirmation later this afternoon that arrangements had already been made.  So very, very grateful for that.)

Comfort and Support

It has now been twelve weeks.  Thankfully, support from many still comes this way.  A high school friend of Michael's emailing her thoughts.  Another one calling to say he wants to come by for a visit. A flower arrangement from one of my husband's friends.  A text from my brother. A phone call from a girlfriend.  A letter from a distant aunt.  A dinner invitation from a friend. They all help to comfort and sustain me.