Letting the Light Shine In

Experiencing another week on the roller-coaster of intense highs and lows.  Continuing to work with the graphic designer, readying my book for print -  necessitating combing through each page repeatedly, resulting in understandably heightened emotions.  Marking another Mother's Day - visiting with my daughters and extended family, four generations of mothers and their children gathered together. Organizing the upcoming memorial golf tournament, resulting in daily opportunities to reconnect with community and friends.  At times, I feel weighed down by the more difficult aspects of these endeavours.  Then, as I began writing this post, out in the sunshine this afternoon, I recognized that woven under, over and around all the challenges are the nourishing elements of support, love, and gratitude.  All those involved are mutually giving and receiving these life-sustaining energies.  Support. Love.  Gratitude.  All opening the door to let the light shine in.

Impressive Shot

Another amazing unexplainable occurrence.  Out on the golf course for the MGMG tournament last weekend.  Playing a Texas Scramble format.  In a foursome including one of Mike's friends, a cabin neighbour.  The two of them spending much time together over the years.  Including occasionally golfing together on this same course. This young man, a passable golfer, now teeing off at #7, our final hole. Taking his drive with a Nike brand ball.  Pulling the shot, causing the ball to veer off to the left.  Assuming to find it less than a third of the way down this 435 yard fairway, somewhere in the rough.  All four of us searching for quite some time, without any luck.  Finally leaving it, and finishing out that hole.  Then both carts making their way back to the clubhouse to meet up with all the others who had already completed the course.  His sister and I leading the way along the #8 fairway.  Spotting a ball up ahead.  Lying out in plain view.  Driving closer to investigate. Realizing it was a Nike ball!  Doing the math.  Coming up short.  What we were looking at seemed impossible.  Well over 5o0 yards to this spot. At least 150 yards further than a pro would make.  The second cart soon joining us.  The young man confirming it was his ball.  All of us looking at each other, completely dumbfounded.  A sign from Mike to his friend?  One currently going through some personal challenges. The four of us returning to the parking lot.  Sharing our story with fellow golfers.  Trying to comprehend the experience.  Laughing at the playfulness and impressive nature of that event.

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.  

Recipe for Healing

At a family lakeside cabin, mix together the following with great care:
66 friends and family
18 holes of golf
183 mulligans
1 heavily laden table of delicious food
Many helping hands
Dozens and dozens of donations
Pockets full of generosity
Add 5 tents and 1 roaring campfire.  Drizzle lightly for a few minutes and toss in 2 claps of thunder, under mainly sunny skies.  Stir with Love.  The worthwhile result is many bolstered hearts and close to $3000 raised for Canuck Place Children's Hospice.


(Update June 20th: the actual amount we raised together was $3333!)

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.