A Shift in Perspective

     As the countdown begins for the 5th annual Mike Gibson Memorial Golf tournament, the weight of the loss of my son begins to intensify. Last year, recognizing the emotional investment required to organize this event left me wondering how many more MGMG tourneys I had left in me. Most people would assume (as I would without this personal experience showing me otherwise) that as time goes by, the emotional impact lessens. It is simply not so. 
     Thankfully, last spring, while contemplating the situation, I began reframing the experience and adjusted my perspective, much like The Hanged Man in the Tarot deck. Were Michael still alive, I would have continued expending a great deal of emotional energy in our relationship. Now, instead of spreading it out over the year, outside of the obvious trigger dates, much of it is condensed into these weeks leading up to the tournament. Since I am still in a relationship with him, albeit on another level, I accept that my ramped up feelings are par for the course. Working on the MGMG tourney is a meaningful expression of our relationship and I embrace the opportunity to continue organizing many more.
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Mizpah

I learned a new word today: mizpah.  I came across it while reading an online article posted on Death Cafe.  The word originated in the Bible and now connotes an emotional bond between two people who are separated (either physically or by death).  Up until now, I was unaware that a term used to describe this situation even existed.  Various scenarios involving mizpah come to mind. Parents sending a child overseas with hopes for a better future.  A best friend moving far away.  The death of a loved one.  It turns out that jewellery depicting this concept also exists, typically consisting of a coin-shaped pendant cut in two with a zigzag line.  A perfect image to hold onto for any being connected to another through mizpah.

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.

Emotional Tasks

Tasks relating to Michael's life continuing to weave their way through mine.  More than a year after his passing.  Finding a new home for his prized mountain bike.  Check.  Collecting and submitting his final income tax return.  Check.  As a group, completing the puzzle he and Kelly had begun.  Check.  None of these undertakings particularly daunting, yet a significant emotional charge accompanying each one. Processing them on a visceral level.  Calling for another expenditure of emotional energy.  The reserves of which still running low.  And so it goes.

Pink and Gold Bruised Heart

Coming up on twelve months.  Searching for the word to best describe this mother's heart.  Some in this situation referring to theirs as being scarred.  Implying lack of hope for further healing.  Personally not to viewing it that way.  Neither wounded nor damaged accurately expressing it either.  Earlier this week, settling on bruised.  A piece of my heart now feeling deeply and severely bruised.  Along with the expected corresponding ache and vulnerability.  Likely both lifelong companions.  Fully accepting that.  The greater part of my heart still thoroughly capable of giving and receiving love.  Then a couple of days ago, experiencing an added dimension.  During yoga, in Savasana, with mind's eye fully opened.  Perceiving an abundance of soft pink energy infusing my heart.  Interspersed with swirling strands of gold. Filling the space beyond capacity.  Flowing in and out in every direction.  Once again, witnessing the spiritual body supporting the emotional and physical ones.  With the powerful energies of light and love. 

Table For Fifteen

Preparing for tomorrow night's dinner.  Setting the table for fifteen. Celebrating Christmas Eve here, German style.  As we have for the past nine years.  Carrying on the tradition my parents passed on.  My great-niece making her initial appearance at this particular event.  A few days shy of her first birthday.  Bringing her sweet energy to this family gathering.  Myself, unsure of what to expect this first Christmas without my son.  Obviously an emotional time.  Not lamenting over it.  Just going with it.  Knowing each person here will be missing him too. Directing my attention to what is present.  Simultaneously acknowledging what is missed.  Therein lies the balancing act.  Not tempted to wish this celebration away.  Never.  So much to be grateful for.  The individual aspects of this tradition continually changing as they must.  However, the integrity of the whole remaining supportive, reassuring, and intact.

An Emotional Puzzle

Peeking out from under the huge armchair in the den.  The front edge of a large framed canvas.  Supporting hundreds of puzzle pieces.  Half of them connected to each other.   The remainder still waiting to be directed to their rightful places.  A pastime Michael engaged in last winter while convalescing after another shoulder surgery.  Kelly working on this with him.  Keeping him company.  Finding it curious that this incomplete project remains there.  Right where they left it.  For someone who thrives in a neat and orderly environment as I do, this seems to be an odd choice.  Usually storing or disposing of unused items with efficiency.  Packing up and donating his clothes.  Cleaning out his room.  All dealt with in a timely fashion.  Today however, still unwilling to return those pieces to their box.  Obviously representing something more.  Perhaps reminding me of the simple activities they enjoyed together.  Clearly understanding it cannot reside there forever. Possibly completing this project together after a family dinner one day. Not wishing to tackle this alone.  Not yet. 

Balanced Living

Living a balanced life.  A popular expression.  Frequently heard of late. Referring to the physical, spiritual, mental, and emotional aspects of ourselves.  Visualizing a pie.  Ideally each piece of it receiving an adequate amount of attention daily.  The size of the pieces adjusting slightly as needed.  Actively moving ones body.  Connecting with spirit. Engaging the brain.  Interacting with feeling.  Every day.  Seemingly simple yet an ongoing challenge.

Emotional Support

Strolling along the seawall.  Reflecting on all those who have given me much needed emotional support over these past few months.  Then moving on to wondering about those who have been noticeably absent. Ones I imagined would be there but are not.  Feeling perplexed and saddened.  Contemplating this.  Subsequently turning it around. Realizing that of course the same could be said of me.  At times disappointing those looking for emotional support from me.  Expecting something I was or am still unable or unwilling to give.  Each one of us making daily choices based on who and where we are in life.  Deciding where to direct our energies.  Thankful for those who continue sharing theirs with me.

Joy and Sadness

When my family first suggested that we host a golf tournament in Michael's memory, I had not imagined it would involve so much effort.  But then, anything worthwhile usually does.  Planning and taking care of details has always come easy to me. This time however, as I continue to cross tasks off my ever growing list, I often find myself feeling overwhelmed.  It is the emotional undercurrent of this event that is such a personal challenge.  Every action I take towards ensuring this weekend will be something his friends and family enjoy is weighed down by the knowledge that he will not actually be there playing with us. This is how closely joy and sadness can coexist.