Another Precious Penny

On Monday February 11th, my husband and I began preparing for our upcoming move.  It was no surprise that the area I found the most difficult to pack up was Michael's room.  Thankfully, only a few of his personal items remained (most of them had been dealt within weeks of his passing), but pulling his books off the shelf and removing his suit from the predominantly empty armoire was not easy.  Tackling this room on our province's first ever "Family Day" holiday did not help. That emotionally loaded label served to intensify my melancholy state. Once the packing of the room was done, my husband began disassembling the armoire, which was situated in a corner, directly against the wall.  With only a couple of inches of clearance between the ceiling and the top of that cabinet, dismantling was required in order to fit through the door.  When he was almost finished, he called me over to help.  As I picked up the base of the armoire, I could not believe my eyes. Lying on the floor was a lone penny.  There was nothing else to be found under, behind, or beside the armoire - no old socks, garbage, or even other coins.  Just one penny.  The back of the armoire was solid wood, as were the top, bottom and side panels - nothing could have accidentally fallen through from the drawers or shelves inside.  So, how did that penny get there?  I have no idea, but based on previous penny encounters, I know who was involved.  Sensing how difficult the day was for me, Michael's spirit made sure to send a sign of support.  After I relayed the incident to my younger daughter, I chuckled as she half-jokingly wondered aloud if the occurrence of future episodes such as this might be affected -  as of Monday February 4th, Canadian pennies are no longer officially in circulation.  We'll see.

Opposite Sides of the Same Coin

Eighteen months in and still, most moments in my day are filtered through the lens of losing my son.  Thankfully, a little less frequently, and for the most part, with reduced intensity.  Two recent experiences in particular come to mind.  Both nonevents to an outsider, yet milestones for me.  Firstly, the entire twenty-four hours of August 7th passed without registering the significance of that date at all.  The first time, since March 7th, when I did not reflect upon a one month marker. Largely due to being out of the country and in a completely different time zone.  While observing this the following morning, I was enheartened. Pleasantly surprised.  Secondly, later that month, after an evening of exploring Zurich with a Swiss friend, I returned to my hotel room.  It was only then when I realized that not once had I thought of the loss during that entire six hour excursion.  The longest stretch by far during this year and a half.  In both cases, it was recognizing the absence of something that left me feeling encouraged.  Seeing what was not there. Experiencing opposite sides of the same coin.  This coin most definitely a penny.

Reconnecting

Attending a funeral at Boal Memorial last Tuesday.  For the mother of one of Mike and Kelly's good friends.  First time back in that chapel since Michael's service.  So many familiar faces.  Seeing Kelly's family, along with numerous young men and women experiencing that great loss last year.  Personally finding great comfort in reconnecting with them all.  Despite the sad circumstances.  Then later, flowers in hand, walking up the pathway into the forest alone.  Towards the two plaques positioned side by side on the wall.  Surprised and thoroughly heartened by the sight of so many of Kelly and Mike's friends already there. Followed by many more joining in.  Recounting stories.  Some tears. And laughter.  Punctuated by quiet reflection.  All acutely feeling loss. Then one young woman reaching down to the ground.  Picking up a penny lying beside a pot of flowers.  Directly in front of the plaques. Holding up the coin to show me.  The two of us shaking our heads in amazement.  Sharing a smile.  Recognizing and appreciating the ongoing marvels.