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.
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Gifts of Sweet Moments

     

     Within the past 48 hours, I have been blessed with having three different people spontaneously share reminders of Michael with me. Considering it has been 6 1/2 years since he died, it is not common for me to hear this many references to him within such a short time. I cherish every precious moment and memory of Michael that friends continue to share. Receiving three so close together is a windfall.
     Two days ago, a close friend of mine texted to say that she was preparing to leave for her highway drive to the Okanagan, where she would be celebrating Christmas with her family. She told me that after lifting her suitcase off the dining room chair, she had pushed the chair back under the table and found a feather lying on the floor under the table. She said that for her, it was a sign that "someone" was wishing her a safe ride up.
     Later that same day, during dinner with another long time friend, who happens to work at Contact Printing, I was told that the microwave at the shop had stopped working this week, and that she and two of her coworkers had remembered that Michael had bought it used off Craigslist for the staff kitchen, about a year before he died.
     Then yesterday, a good friend of Mike's sent me a photo via Messenger that he thought I might like to see. It showed my son during his grade 12 year, seated in a semicircle with five of his friends, celebrating someones birthday.
     Today, our family will gather at Boal Memorial to decorate the little Christmas tree. Despite the cold, rainy weather, we'll hang ornaments, light the candles, and sing some carols while sending loving thoughts to Mike and Kelly. And through it all, I will feel buoyed by the gifts of these sweet reminders of my son.
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Sun, Sand and Signs

     Home again, after a fabulous family vacation, where three generations were fortunate enough to play in the sun and sand. Much of the time, we were all hanging out together, but some mornings, my husband and I would head out for a long beach walk, just the two of us. During one such outing, three heartwarming signs appeared back-to-back, reminding us that Michael was with us on this family vacation, as well. 
     The first sign happened about an hour in. Walking a short distance behind my husband, I spotted a small, perfectly heart-shaped shell lying in the wet sand. As I picked it up, I noticed it was about the size of a dime, just as thin, and smooth to the touch. Polished by the waves, as precious as a jewel.
     With shell in hand, I rejoined my husband and after showing him my treasure, we continued on. A short distance later, I impulsively stopped and turned to face the ocean. Instantly, I noticed a tiny, white feather drifting down over the water. Soon, I spotted a second one, floating near the first. It was mesmerizing to watch these two feathers dance in the sunshine. I assumed I would see them fall into the ocean, but instead, they disappeared from my sight, into the backdrop of the bright blue sky. They became invisible to me. My husband, who had witnessed the scene as well, turned to me and asked what had prompted me to stop. I explained that I had simply stopped, for no particular reason. Lucky for me that I did.
     Then, carrying on with our walk, it wasn't long before we came upon a huge message written in the sand. It read: "I LOVE YOU DAD!" In case there had been any doubt, and that perhaps the first two signs had not been enough.
     All of our beach walks nourished our souls with the healing combination of bare feet in the sand, lapped by the waves, and warmed by the sun. However, the bonus of seeing these three signs during this particular walk boosted our souls into the stratosphere. Clearly, our entire family was present during this marvelous vacation.
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Did That Just Happen?

 

     In advance of my upcoming overseas trip, I downloaded an app onto my cellphone yesterday afternoon, in order to help me stay connected with family, without incurring any great costs. I had heard reference made to WhatsApp a couple of times, but knew nothing about it. Once downloaded, I noticed an updated list of my phone contacts, notifying me of those using this app. Scrolling down, I saw Michael Gibson listed there, with the notation, "Hey there! I am using WhatsApp". What?! Had he downloaded this app before he died? Was it even around five years ago? Impulsively, I went into the Chat function and typed,
 "Miss you 💗".
     Obviously, he would not actually answer his phone. My assumption was that the message would go out into the ether and that the intention behind it would be felt by my son. Seconds later, I heard an audio alert on my cell and read the reply, "Sorry, but who r u?" In that moment, I felt as if I was in a parallel universe. I walked into my living room and settled into the lounge chair located near the large, open, glass sliding door. It took me a few minutes to figure out that Michael's cell number must have been reassigned to someone else so I typed out a short reply apologizing for the mistaken identity.
     When I was done, I sat there looking out into the yard, contemplating what had just happened when I suddenly caught sight of a tiny feather drifting down, just outside the door opening. I jumped up, stepped outside, and started laughing as I watched it land on the path, right beside the glass door. "Are you kidding?" and "Did that just happen?" swirled around in my mind. This time around it was a light grey feather, instead of the usual white, and I am not yet sure if the colour is of great significance or not. One thing I do know for sure is how grateful I am to have access to the myriad ways of staying connected to family, regardless of where in the world we may be.  
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Pink Feather

   

     Last week, Kelly came to me in a short, but beautiful, vivid dream. With a carefree and happy demeanour, she playfully ran across a grass field, exuding love. It had been years since I dreamt of her - it felt wonderful to feel her presence again. 

     Today, midway through boot camp, our group headed outside for an activity on the back parking lot and while running over to the equipment, I noticed a small, neon pink feather lying on the pavement. I picked it up and looked around to see if there was an obvious source or if there were any others ... no and no. Then, my thoughts turned to Kelly. I could not help but think this feather was linked to the dream, since they were both filled with the same kind of love energy. That fun, free and easy kind of love. Smiling all the way into my heart, I turned the feather this way and that before tucking it into my pocket for safe keeping.  

     I am grateful for both these exquisite events, for heaven knows, one can never experience too much love!

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One Tiny Feather Lightens the Load

   

   
 






     Sunday morning, my husband and I headed out for a walk in the canyon, decked out in rain gear, from head to toe. The few people we encountered along the trail were all accompanied by a dog or two - in that inclement weather it seemed that, other than ourselves, only those who had to be out, were. We joked about walking our two invisible dogs and the bonus of not having to "scoop the poop".

     We both felt the heavy weight of this emotionally charged day as we would later be meeting our children and grandchildren at Boal Memorial for our annual tradition of decorating of a little Christmas tree, honouring our angels.
     Arriving at the midway mark of our canyon walk, I stopped on the sidewalk atop the dam and gazed down over the railing into the huge volume of water roaring down into the river below. Empty of thought, I became mesmerized. The spell was broken when, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a tiny, white object drift down beside me. Looking down at my feet, I noticed that a small feather had landed in the very narrow space between myself and the railing.  I instinctively looked up for birds, but there were none. I checked the area around me to see if more had fallen. No, only the one. It had been six months since I last saw this sign from my son, and I was overjoyed to notice this feather, today.

     By late afternoon, the rain had subsided, and by the time we arrived at Boal, the sun even made a brief appearance. After decorating the tree, lighting the candles, and singing some carols, a brilliant sunset became the backdrop for this tranquil forest setting. Later, after enjoying a fabulous family dinner, I reflected on this challenging day and felt overwhelming gratitude for the perfect way it had unfolded. It could not have gone any better.
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In Sync with the Weather

Up at the cabin, my moods seem to be in sync with the weather today. Contentment while painting the exterior siding under cloudy skies. Uplifted by the sight of a tiny, white feather resting on the ground beside me, just as the sun broke through for a brief visit. Gratitude for getting in a long lake swim before the winds picked up. Then, in concert with the summer storm rolling in, shedding a few tears when one of the songs from Mike's service spontaneously broke the silence, as the temperamental stereo decided to spring to life. Now, while listening to the remainder of that soundtrack and observing the ongoing interplay between clouds, sun and rain, I breathe in all the expressions of life that surround me.

More Feathers

Late afternoon last Friday, I placed my yoga mat under a maple tree in the far corner of the yard.  I had never set up over there, but on this day, it was the only spot that felt private.  Although it had been warm out earlier, by the time I sat down it had cooled off significantly and I considered moving indoors.  However, with the long range forecast calling for rain and lower temperatures, I realized that it could be quite some time 'til I could practise outdoors again so I grabbed a blanket, and began.  Within moments I noticed a small, white feather drifting down, eventually coming to rest on the grass nearby.  Soon after, a second white feather appeared, undulating - dancing softly in the breeze, like a scene out of Forrest Gump.  After crossing directly in front of me, it continued on at eye level, passing under the branches and eventually travelling beyond my field of vision.  It had been many months, possibly even a year, since I had last seen this special sign, and I smiled at the loving message from spirit.  Earlier in the week, I had asked Michael to please show me a physical sign of his presence, to remind me that his essence was still close, and now, here it was.  As my poses flowed from one to another, I repeatedly heard the message: remember to keep your perspective broad and open, rather than narrow and closed - you will feel lighter and more content.  I interpreted this to be a reference to living with his passing, but of course, it applies to everything in life.  So richly rewarded for my decision to remain outdoors.

Feathery Appearance

Late afternoon.  Feeling an unexpected urge to begin jotting down the rough draft for this post.  Going with it even though I would be heading out shortly.  Positioning myself in the centre of the sofa, out on the back deck.  That entire area covered by a glass roof.  With a wall to my back and another to the right, this space open to the elements on only two sides.  Mere minutes into the process, noticing something drifting down beside me, then landing on this couch.  Directly to my right. Gazing down at a small, delicate, light grey feather.  No recollection of ever seeing one like this here before.  Immediately looking skyward to determine its origin.  Trying to make sense of a seemingly impossible occurrence.  Seconds later, putting two and two together.  At least an aspect of it.  Recalling my discovery of tiny white feathers on the morning of Michael and Kelly's accident.  Those, the same size as this one, just fuller.  Two of them lying there on the mat, just steps from this sofa.  This time around, recognizing it to be a sign from another young man.  One I did not know.  Dear to a close friend of mine.  She emailing me earlier in the day after having been informed of his accidental death due to being hit by a car.  Occurring two days prior to this correspondence.  Leaving her feeling overwhelming sadness and shock, at the ostensibly senseless nature of this event.  Now, while staring at this feather, suddenly remembering this same friend of mine sitting here with me earlier in the week.  On this very couch, on the very day that young man died.  Me on the left, she on the right.  Exactly where this tiny grey feather now lay.  Definitely not an accident.