The Dog Star and its Pup

As I reflect upon Michael's life and replay memories of him on this 13th anniversary of his death, I'm feeling especially close to his soul due to some intriguing information I learned just this week. 

Six years ago, I had discovered his soul name when he appeared during my profound Life between Lives experience. During hypnosis, the name Sirius was communicated to me by his soul being. I knew that to be the name of a star, but when I saw it spelled out in white letters in my mind's eye, it read Cirius. I immediately started laughing because I recognized his great sense of humour coming through. Of course it would be spelled with a C instead of an S. He was playing with me, and with the homonym 'serious', which was pretty well the opposite of who he was, most of the time. Funny guy!

A few days ago, after a short meditation, I became curious about the star. As it turns out, Sirius is a binary star located in the constellation Canis Major.  Sirius A, also known as the Dog Star, is the brightest in the night sky! Sirius B, affectionately called the Pup Star, is its white dwarf companion. What a scene that conjures up in my mind. Michael and Diesel, best buds here on earth, now possibly the Dog and its Pup hanging out in the universe together, their star energy shining brightly! 

Blue Roses

When I saw the blue ice-cream cake sitting in the freezer display through a cafe window, I knew it would be the perfect dessert for the family dinner we had planned for the fourth anniversary of Michael's death.  It would be last on my list of options for any other celebration, but for this occasion it would be perfect, since it reminded me so much of my son.  If most people typically chose A or B, he would usually opt for C, D, or even E, instead.  Why give a girl the more traditional pink or red roses, when the unnaturally dyed blue ones were beckoning with a wink?  Why concern yourself with making healthy food choices, when junk food, with all its additives and colouring, was calling?  So, on Saturday night, we each enjoyed a piece of this crazy cake in his name. And, if we needed a physical reminder of his sense of humour, we were all left with blue-stained fingers well into the next day. We love and miss you Mike!

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Crystal Clear

Last night, I had the pleasure of attending an uplifting crystal bowl group mediation.  It took place, after hours, inside a shop carrying gifts, accessories, clothing and more, items designed to add joy and serenity to people's lives.  I had stopped in once when it first opened late last spring, but had not been there since.  After we dozen or so participants settled ourselves in a circle, the facilitator opened the session with a prayer from George Harrison, then explained that the vibrations we would hear while he played the bowl would address the throat chakra, associated with communication and the colour blue.  With eyes closed, we relaxed into ourselves as he continually moved his mallet around the rim.  He played the huge, crystal bowl for thirty to forty minutes, then let the sound fade away.  After opening my eyes and allowing myself to fully return to my body, I looked across the room, and that is when I saw it.  My book displayed upright with full cover view, on a shelf behind the facilitator. I was unaware that this particular shop carried Diary of an Intuitive.  More to the point, I had not noticed the book while passing back and forth in front of it numerous times while arranging chairs for the group, nor had I noticed it during the circle introduction.  While I was processing the magic of this moment, the facilitator invited us to share any experiences we had had with regards to the meditation and he answered individual's questions.  He told a joke involving Sitting Bull, reminding us of the importance of humour, spoke about love being the ongoing connection between life and death, and referred to signs by which people often identify the presence of a loved one who has passed.  After a few minutes of reflection, I began telling the group about what had just occurred to me.  Most of them were unable to see the book from where they were sitting, so I described it to them: a heart containing the words love and gratitude positioned on the blue cover of a book communicating experiences about life and death, and some of the in between.  Almost as an afterthought, I began explaining the story behind the two feathers positioned beside the heart.  No sooner had I  spoken the words "two feathers", when the facilitator's wife, who had been writing notes, lifted her head, and with a nod towards her husband, told me, "That's his name".  Seeing the confusion on my face, her husband, who had introduced himself to us using his French name, explained that he had some native ancestry consisting of two warring tribes, thus the name Two Feathers. Oh my. So many overlapping themes: blue, communication, love, death, feathers. Never a dull moment on this spiritual journey. It's not a stretch to imagine that Michael's spirit guide Geronimo was infused into this magical evening, as well. 

First Birthday

Dearest Granddaughter,
Later today we will be celebrating your first birthday, which falls tomorrow.  I have baked you a carrot cake; I cannot remember the last time I made one.  What I do know is that it was an obvious choice given that I had baked this same kind for your mother on her first birthday too.
What you have shown me about yourself thus far:
You give freely of your kisses - to stuffed animals, pictures in books, friends and family.
Your entertaining facial expressions are an ongoing source of joy and laughter.
You enjoy eating, moving your body to music, and reading "Pat the Bunny".
You are not keen on cats nor the feel of grass under your feet.
You are confident and curious, partnered with a healthy dose of cautiousness.
You have a wonderful sense of humour.
You are beautiful.

As you grow older, there may be times when you forget how fabulous you are.  I hope not.  However, if you do, you can read this birthday letter to help remind you of your inherent beauty and worth.  During this first year you have brought a great gift to our entire family, just by being you.

Thank you for being born.

Love and kisses,
Oma

Immense Resolve

Such immense resolve required in order to stay the course.  The amount of energy expended while doing so, extraordinary.  That proverbial rug so often getting pulled right out from under me.  Without any warning. Last Friday afternoon.  The day before an already emotionally charged weekend.  An envelope from the Ministry of Public Safety arriving in the mail.  Discovering a cover letter inside, along with the official Coroner's Report.  Including numerous details.  Time of Death.  Cause of Death. By What Means.  And more.  Black and white reminder of the harsh reality.  A formal version of events.  Not much in the way of new information.  Thankfully.  Moments later, the phone ringing.  My husband calling to say he would be working a little late.  Telling him about the letter.  He spontaneously responding with morbid humour. "He's probably still dead."  Leaving me laughing and crying.  Truly exhausting.

Sharing Laughs

Reading "Zits" comic strip in the Sunday funnies yesterday.  The one cartoon Michael and I regularly shared laughs over.  Right til the end. Both of us recognizing our mother/son relationship so accurately mirrored there.  First frame, dated January 8, 2012.  Mother on the phone.  "Hello Olive Garden? I'd like to make a reservation for three for my son's birthday."  This story concluding with the teenage son making last minute changes to the plans.  Leaving his mom banging her head against the wall.  Really?  Same birthday???  Immediately recognizing this sign from my witty son.  Still sharing laughs.  Offering up humour to lighten the load.  Our family and two friends later marking Michael's birthday at The Old Spaghetti Factory.  The idea leaping in a couple of months ago.  This inexpensive restaurant with its lively energy always his first pick for a dinner out.  Our group acknowledging the significance of this day with stories and laughter over a meal.  Helping to take the edge of an extremely difficult occasion. 

Making Us Laugh

"Letters to Uncle Mike".  This was the title of the book my eyes first landed upon as I entered the shop.  Skimming the back cover, I instantly recognized that same sharp sense of humour my son had.  A book filled with quirky questions regarding relationships, sex, manners, and more.  The kind that leaves one wondering, "Are these people for real?" All answered with an incredibly sharp wit.  My son was a keen observer of human behaviour and often used humour to share those insights.  He never got the chance to be an uncle but he did have many opportunities to share those laser observations and make so many of us laugh.

Taking a Mulligan

Yesterday, someone I love said something that left me feeling hurt and confused.  That state was still with me as I left for my run this morning.  When I returned, it was with more clarity and a readiness to talk.  After some discussion, those feelings dissipated but we were still without a clear resolution.  Then with great sincerity, the person asked for a mulligan.  A "do over" in golf terms.  I burst into laughter and agreed.  A unique solution obtained by applying humour with care.

Michael Shares

Last night, I attended another powerful evening of mediumship at the ISA.  A good friend arrived as well and was able to share this experience with me.  About an hour in, the medium asked if she could come to me.  She mentioned that before the session started, she had overheard me saying that our family had hosted a memorial golf tournament for my son.  She then stated that he had been there with us and proceeded to share what was coming through from him. The following is what she said recorded as accurately as possible, without having taped the session.  My own observations, which I noted to myself while she was speaking, are in brackets:
He had a great sense of humour and things would come out of his mouth that made people laugh, not at him, but with him.  There was so much laughter at the celebration with some people laughing so hard that they were falling down! (absolutely)  During the golf game, many balls were lost including coloured ones, even a green one.  People did not even bother looking for them.  Apparently one ended up in a tree and you will find it some day without purposefully have to go looking for it.  There were many wild shots played out there. (Personally I lost 4 pink balls and did not spend much time looking for any of them) He was amazed by all the food we had and would have loved to have had some.  He loved to eat.  He could not believe how many people were there and was impressed that there was room for them all. (66 ) He wondered if the floor would collapse under the weight of so many people. (Bob actually reinforced the deck earlier this spring for just that reason) He was proud of the family for helping others with what has happened.  He had wanted to help others as well and was beginning to do that in his life.  He is happy that you honoured him in this way.  This tournament was the kind of thing he would have loved and enjoyed. ( I had this conversation with many people during the weekend)  By doing this you were creating memories and he had talked about making memories when he was alive. ( Bob and I specifically talked about this Sunday morning while we watched Michael's friends out on the dock rehashing the previous day) He is around you often, hears you talking to him, and knows that you hear him too. When he passed he immediately knew it was the right time to go. ( I knew that the moment I heard the news) The phrase "bass ackwards" came through.  ( I often use this play on "ass backwards" to describe crazy actions)  He knows that you are grieving, but that you are not stuck.  Once you got over the initial realization of what had happened you were able to start moving forward.  (Absolutely correct)
As my friend later commented, his words came through with playful, happy energy, infused with his sense of humour. I left feeling nurtured and uplifted. Connected and grateful. An experience chosen by few, available to all. 

Hole in the Wall

As my husband went about his weekly ritual of flipping through the realty listings in our community newspaper, I thought about the words "Real Estate" and had an odd yet funny thought.  My son had often mentioned that he could not see himself living on the North Shore long term since the real estate prices here were so high.  Well, now he has property, albeit a hole in the wall.  Literally.  His final resting place is in the Capilano Wall in the Boal Chapel forest.  The dictionary definition for this expression reads, "a small unpretentious out of the way place".  That, it surely is.  Michael would have been the first to appreciate the humour in this situation and as macabre as it may sound to some, I can smile at the irony that in the end, he did get a minuscule portion of North Vancouver real estate legally registered in his name. 

A Difficult Choice

This was the most difficult step yet, standing in that cold room looking at the various display cremation coffins, imagining my baby boy's body, all 6 foot 2 inches of him, being placed in one of these.  Knowing that it was only the shell he had left behind was of little comfort in that moment. So many choices, from the purely functional to the ornate.  With lining and pillow, or without?  As I wandered from casket to casket, I kept staring at the most basic one, literally a cardboard box.  My rational mind could understand that it really didn't matter which one I finally chose, but my heart and soul felt otherwise.  As I contemplated all the options, Michael's sense of humour and practicality were trying to make a case about how appropriate that cardboard version would be. He was laughing as he showed me the comic connection to his work environment which was full of cardboard boxes, and then in his no nonsense way adding, "Mom, the fancier ones are just a waste of money."  He listened to my arguments with compassion and that sparkle in his eyes, and then smiling, he indulged me in my final choice.  Thank you Michael for being with me and lightening up that difficult situation, just as you had done for me so many times before.