Seven and a Half Years

     My husband was long overdue for a new pair of runners but shopping for personal items is something he puts off for as long as possible. With a soon-to-expire gift card for a large sporting goods retailer, I suggested he go shopping after work yesterday, and offered to go along for moral support.
     After arriving at the store, we made our way over to the men's athletic footwear department, where we encountered a wall displaying close to a hundred different styles and models. As a Libra, making decisions can be challenging for him, and with this many options to consider, it could be overwhelming. After a short time, he enlisted the help of a young staff member (about 18 or 19 years old), and after explaining to the clerk what he was looking for in a shoe, the young man made a couple of recommendations, then went off to find the correct sizes.
     Seated on a nearby bench, watching the interactions between these two, I suddenly remembered a story one of Michael's friends had shared with us after Mike died, regarding the job our son had had at this same store when he was in his late teens. With minimal job training, it turns out that Mike would sell sporting goods to customers by making suggestions based on very little product knowledge, essentially faking his way through his shifts there. Thinking of that story now brought a huge smile to my face and I wondered how knowledgeable this particular staff member was. As the young man approached me, I looked up at his name tag and could hardly believe it - Michael! 
     September 7th - exactly 7 1/2 years since our son died. Sadness had begun draping itself over me the day before and had fully enveloped me by the time I awoke yesterday. Once I realized what the date was, I understood why. Thankfully, a couple of weeks earlier, I had randomly arranged to meet up for an afternoon walk with a long time friend for this day - an outing which resulted in a shift to lighter energy. Topping it off with this occurrence while shopping with my husband was a bonus - it made my day! And yes, my husband came home with a new pair of runners, thanks to Michael.
www.diaryofanintuitive.com

Life Between Lives

   

     Over the past few months, I have been exploring Life Between Lives (LBL), the state our souls inhabit between incarnations. Numerous books, seminars and documentaries have covered this topic but I became aware, only recently, that it was possible to experience LBL under hypnosis, while incarnated in this life.
      After researching the topic, my curiosity was piqued. I booked a four hour LBL session with a very experienced and highly trained facilitator from the Newton Institute, who happened to be the first certified therapist practicing LBL in Canada. Coincidentally, she has worked in my community for years.
      It was a phenomenal experience, unlike anything I had ever had.  Meeting my soul group, being reacquainted with my spirit guide, recognizing my life purpose, and receiving some healing for the grief that still lingered deep within my womb seven years after my son's death, were all extremely helpful benefits of my LBL session. The incredible insights and understanding about my life experiences left me with a lasting sense of peace. Anyone open to receiving illumination regarding challenging events in their lives may want to consider this powerful experience. An opportunity for spiritual growth that is within us all.  
www.diaryofanintuitive.com
P.S. - A good starting place to learn more about LBL is "Journey of Souls" by Dr. Michael Newton.

Observing the Signs

    

     After getting into my Volvo yesterday morning, I was buckling up just as Nat King Cole's voice came on over the CBC radio air waves and began singing "Smile".  The lyrics Smile though your heart is aching, smile even though it's breaking immediately caught my attention since "Smile" was one of the three songs chosen to play during my son's memorial service. I had not heard it played over the radio since he died, and it had likely been years before that.   
     I was on my way to the BMW dealership just over the bridge. My husband and I would be picking up a brand new convertible to drive around in this long weekend. His was the highest bid for this Mike Gibson Memorial Golf tournament silent auction prize of a 3 day car rental. A longtime friend of Michael's had arranged for this donation through his place of work.
     I stopped at my husband's business en route and we then carried on to our destination in his car. After encountering the third yellow traffic light in a row (all unsynchronized), he commented on how strange it was that every traffic light was turning yellow just before we arrived at a controlled intersection, placing us in that questionable zone of whether to stop or drive on through.  I then told him about hearing the song "Smile" and soon made the connection that we were being cautioned to take it easy while driving around in that sporty car we were about to pick up. Close friend of Michael's, poignant song, and potential car accident - the synchronicity of these three signs was too obvious to miss.
      The yellow light phenomenon continued most of the way there. After picking up the rental car, we headed back along the highway, enjoying the ride with roof down and music playing, but observing the signs from the universe to take extra care on the roads this weekend in order to avoid a possible accident waiting to happen.
 www.diaryofanintuitive.com

Fun fact: When I began writing this post, the time happened to be 3:33, another reminder that angels are near.

Pure Bliss

Rather than celebrating just the one day, this year I enjoyed an entire week of Mother's Day celebrations. Some were pre-planned events, others, spontaneous. I was able to keep chores, errands, and shoulds to a minimum, then upped the self-care, pampering quotient. Adding in decadent activities that I would generally spread out over the course of many months, made for an incredible Mother's Day week.  

Monday: boot camp followed by an hour-long massage
Tuesday: hanging out with my precious grandkids 
Wednesday: seabus excursion with my granddaughter, exploring public art downtown and introducing her to drinking chocolate
Thursday: forest run, then lunch out with my older daughter and granddaughter, followed by a mani/pedi
Friday: rainy hike in the canyon with a neighbour, followed by a facial and a little shopping
Saturday: home yoga practice to the music of 'Jesus Christ Superstar', then dinner at the home of long time friends
Sunday: morning walk with my husband, followed by late lunch with my younger daughter

Seven luxurious days, including loads of one-on-one time with family. Pure bliss. I am extremely thankful to have enjoyed such an indulgent week. It definitely made it easier to bear the absence of my son today, and my well has been refilled.
www.diaryofanintuitive.com 

Chocolate Heart

   

     "Could you please bring me home a little box of chocolates from Thomas Haas on your way home?", I had texted my husband. Anyone who knows me knows I love chocolate, but I had never put out this request. It would be a small treat to help get me through this very challenging day - the anniversary of the death of our son.      

     Thankfully, he was only going in to work for a few hours today, and I was happy to see him arrive home mid-afternoon. When he presented me with the box of four chocolates, I instantly noticed the one 💖shaped one . When I asked him if he had chosen these particular four, he answered that he had not, he had just picked up a prepacked box. Heart-shaped chocolates are not listed on the package insert nor included among the twenty-eight described on their website. Immense gratitude for this sweet gift of love energy.

www.diaryofanintuitive.com

Open Circle

      Since early this year, I have been lacking inspiration to write, and for the past couple of weeks, experienced increasing anxiety regarding the upcoming 6th anniversary of my son's death. A few days ago, I realized that in order to bolster my link with the metaphysical realm, I needed to attend an Open Circle, something I had not done for well over a year. And so, I did.

     Seven of us, including the facilitator, began with a healing meditation - for the group, for friends and acquaintances, for the entire planet. This was followed by a lengthy guided visualization, and concluded with mediumship and sharing messages for each other. 

     To see and feel Michael's presence during my visualization was a huge source of comfort and support. He presented as his 25-year-old self, and was so "alive" with enthusiasm, smiling and emanating immense joy. It was obvious that he was as happy to see me as I was to see him. During our time together, it felt like a case of role reversal -  as if I were the child and he the parent, showing me the way. Later, when it came time to share our experiences with the group, I learned that he even showed up in someone else's visualization. 

     At the end of the evening, there were several wonderful messages for me from other circle participants, all of which served to strengthen the relationship with my son.

    Along with a renewed desire to write, those inspiring three hours of deep spiritual connection with Michael resulted in relieving some of my anxiety and filling my being with joy and contentment. So glad I followed through on my intuition to attend - a powerful evening with lasting impact.

www.diaryofanintuitive.com

Precious Bottle of Lotion

     While reaching into the medicine cabinet for my face cream yesterday morning, I noticed that the large container beside it had a puddle of lotion pooled at its base. I did a double take since this pump bottle of aloe lotion is something I have never ever used, lotion no one in this house has ever used. Two-thirds empty and more than five years old, it takes up valuable space in our one and only tiny bathroom. And anyone who knows me well, knows this - I am ruthless when it comes to purging items, a trait that comes in handy when living in a small space. But this, it stays.
     I discovered this bottle of lotion in my son's room soon after he and Kelly died. It had obviously been hers. Two years later, there was no question it would make the move here to this home since it was the only personal item of Kelly's that I had.  
     Now, a puddle. I have seen this happen once before, a year or two ago. Most likely, there is a clear scientific explanation for this, but both times it resulted in a cherished emotional and energetic connection to Kelly. The value of something so seemingly insignificant as an old, no longer in use, bottle of lotion ... precious and priceless.
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Pennies Become Pure Gold

     

     A couple of hours after writing last week's blog post, another beautiful sign from spirit appeared while I was shopping in a downtown department store. A very personable salesman helped me find a cosmetic item, and then, when it came time to pay, accompanied me to the nearby register, where he rang up the purchase. After handing him my money, his cash drawer opened. While making change, his expression became puzzled, and then he commented, "I wonder what this penny is doing here?" An understandable reaction since it has now been three and a half years since the Royal Canadian Mint stopped penny production and merchants began rounding prices up/down in order to omit pennies on cash purchases. I smiled and simply said, "Pennies from heaven".  He looked at me somewhat curiously so I told him that pennies occasionally appear in my life in connection with my son. With kindness, he acknowledged my comment, then returned his attention to the cash drawer where he noticed a second penny and asked if I wanted them both. Of course I did. He placed the coins in my hand, whereupon I promptly checked the dates - both 2011, the year Michael and Kelly died. Two pennies, two hours later, for those two ... moments such as these are pure gold. 

( PS - to top it off, over the following few days, I was notified of winning fabulous prizes from three separate contests! ) 

www.diaryofanintuitive.com

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.  
www.diaryofanintuitive.com

Angling In

      A couple of weeks ago, my brother's new life partner texted me, asking for a couple of pictures to be included in the family photo gallery she's creating in their new home. She suggested the family picture be the one taken at Mike's best friend's wedding last year and left it up to me to select a favourite photo of my son. After much deliberation, I chose one showing him smiling ear to ear, taken during one of his many fishing excursions with my brother. He loved his Uncle Walt and the joy of this shared moment on the river is palpable. 
     I ordered a large print of each photo and they arrived at my place two days ago. Gazing at the pictures, I considered whether to mail them to their house or wait until we might next see each other. Less than a minute later, I received a message from my brother inviting my husband and I to go sturgeon fishing with the two of them this weekend. I have only been sturgeon fishing twice, the last time was in 2009, during which this photo was taken - guided by my brother, the day included my husband and all my children, along with their best friends. Great memories! With the bonus of sunshine in the forecast, I am really looking forward to tomorrow's outing, and undoubtedly, Mike will be angling in on our experience. 
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Coming Up on Five Years

     Considering that it is coming up on five years without him, some people may be surprised to know that I do not fully comprehend the fact that my son is dead. Despite my lifelong belief in everlasting spirit, and numerous personal experiences of connecting to the invisible, I still shake my head in confusion. It is not about denial, nor a reluctance to access my emotions. And it is certainly not due to an unwillingness to understand. What I put it down to is the very real possibility that a mother can never fully make sense of the death of her child.
     I suspect that our brains are not hardwired for this scenario, nor is an after-market add on available either. Job loss, ill health, end of a significant relationship, death of a parent or friend - I believe that for the most part, we are programmed with the capacity to process these life events. But the death of ones child? How is it possible to reconcile giving birth to this precious being, then day in and day out fully invest oneself in his growth, only to be asked to live without his physical presence years later. I would venture to say that being able to fully comprehend the death of ones child is likely impossible.
     Of course, whether I fully understand it or not hardly affects the journey of living with this loss. Every day, every single day, it simply comes down to focussing on joy, love and gratitude as much as possible.

www.diaryofanintuitive.com

Michael Comes Through Loud and Clear

     

     My spontaneous decision to stop by the grand opening of a new metaphysical shop resulted in receiving a most magnificent reading. It had been years since I last had a card reading, and rather than ask for guidance on a specific issue, I opted for being open to hearing whatever came through.  
     There was no doubt that the woman I chose to sit down with had excellent abilities when she began the session with, "I see a young man ... he's in his early twenties ... he's your son." Michael came through loud and clear, reassuring me with, "Wherever you are, there I am," as well as wrapping me in a white ribbon of protection. He also communicated that we will never lose our heart connection. Michael then showed the reader some miniature trains, a reference which I instantly understood. I have strong memories of him as a child amusing himself with his Brio train set - as young as three years old, he would play with it alone in his bedroom for hours upon hours. This set is one of the few playthings I kept for my grandchildren, and last week, when my three-year-old granddaughter was over, she asked to play with the trains, so we did. At some point during that afternoon I explained to her that these had been Uncle Mike's. Now in this reading, the reader explained that Michael was telling her that he had been right there beside us, chuckling while we played.
     For forty-five minutes, she brought forth all this valuable information, as well as tidbits about other aspects of my life. I left feeling connected, supported, and inspired - extremely grateful for further evidence of the everlasting connection between life and death.
www.diaryofanintuitive.com

Significant Birthdays and Unexpected Gifts

 

     This week of significant birthdays, along with unexpected gifts, began with my mother's birthday on January 4th. Were she still living she would now be eighty-one years old. Looking to buy flowers for her memorial bench, and with the local shop where I usually bought them now closed, I stopped in at another neighbourhood store where I had see flowers for sale in the past. When I asked the clerk where they were, she told me they no longer carry cut flowers but that they still had some potted white poinsettias, then offered to give me one, no charge. As I approached the till, she insisted I take two, explaining that the bench would look much nicer that way. Such a thoughtful gift!
     Wednesday, I showed up for my weekly boot camp group class to discover that I was the only participant, and as a result, received the gift of a one-hour private session at the drop-in price. So lucky!
     Thursday, I stopped by an outdoor equipment store and when I arrived at the checkout, noticed a promotion - for each pair of snowshoes purchased, the buyer would receive a free snowshoe ticket valid for the Callaghan trails, an area I've never explored. I had given my husband snowshoes for Christmas and when I explained this to the cashier, he was happy to honour the promo. Sweet gift!
     Today is my son's birthday. He would be thirty, were he still here. This morning, I will be meeting up with a friend who also lives with the experience of losing a child. The gift of support from someone who understands. This evening, our family will gather for dinner at The Old Spaghetti Factory, as we have every January 8th since Michael died. The gift of each other as we carry on to the best of our abilities without our funny, loving, handsome guy.
     This week finishes out with my best friend's 60th birthday tomorrow. We will be celebrating a woman who has been an integral part of my life for close to forty years. A sister to me, an aunt to my children. The gift of a relationship I cannot imagine living without. Most precious, worth its weight in gold.
www.diaryofanintuitive.com

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.
www.diaryofanintuitive.com

Wedding Wonders

 This coming weekend, I will be officiating my first, and possibly only, wedding. An extraordinary experience on so many levels - one I never imagined having. The groom-to-be had been my son's best friend. A few months ago, when this young man (considered honorary son/brother in our family), and his fiancée invited me to conduct their ceremony, I was simultaneously shocked and honoured, beyond belief. Neither ordained minister nor marriage commissioner, I had to research the options for a lay person officiating a wedding. Thankfully, a friend who has conducted numerous weddings in her role as a minister, promptly offered up her support and explained how it could be done. So, here I am ... thrilled to be part of this young couple's upcoming nuptials where they will formally declare their love and commitment before one hundred and twenty guests. A wedding taking place in the same small, rural town where the accident occurred, where Mike and Kelly said goodbye to this world. The bride-to-be, who had never met those two, chose this location since her family has recreational property here. I would never in a million years have imagined I would attend a wedding here, let alone officiate one. The icing on the cake is that my husband, daughters, sons-in law and grandchildren will be there celebrating, as well. Eagerly awaiting this divine experience of being fully immersed in the expression of love, with the visible and invisible - perfect on so many levels!

www.diaryofanintuitive.com

Still Trying to Finesse the Balancing Act

     Four and a half years ago today. While placing flowers at Boal Memorial this afternoon, the photo that resides there resonated even more deeply than usual. This picture of Michael and Kelly was taken five years ago, in early September 2010, at a lakeside cabin on the Sunshine Coast, during the rehearsal dinner for our oldest daughter's wedding. I love the energy these two exude in this scene, that of fully embracing life. During the past three days, however, this image unexpectedly evoked the opposite reaction within me, acting as a constant reminder of our loss, continually tugging at my heart, threatening to weigh me down. 
     My husband and I had been invited to spend the weekend at this cabin with the same daughter, her husband and two children - yes, we are that lucky. Eating dinner together on the deck, gazing up at the stars with my granddaughter snuggled in my lap, cuddling with my grandson by the fire - I am grateful for each of these beautiful moments, and many, many more. Yet, as always, the highs of being with my family coexist intimately with the lows of missing my son. Four and a half years in ... trying to finesse this balancing act has not become any easier. 
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No Ordinary Weekend

     









     A recent sunny Whistler weekend getaway was filled with incredible moments of synchronicity. The only pre-planned part of the trip was doing tarot readings at a mountaintop event, on the Friday evening. My husband and I had decided to make a weekend of it, booking in at the RV park. With so much to offer, the location supported an effortless flow between being active (biking the valley trail, hiking around Lost Lake, walking to the village) and enjoying restful pastimes (impromptu riverside picnic, brunch on a lakeside patio, Scrabble in the shade). 
     Saturday evening, during an after-dinner stroll through the village, I heard my name called and turned to see one of my cousins seated with someone on a nearby restaurant patio. He lives a few hours away, and we had not seen each other for three years. After a round of hugs and getting introduced to his girlfriend, we took them up on their offer to join them for a drink. We discovered that just minutes before we were spotted, a table had been freed up on the patio, and his girlfriend had requested they move out there, instead of remaining at their inside table. They had arrived at the resort earlier that evening and were leaving shortly after noon the next day. Small window of time to run into them. And as it turned out, Sunday morning our paths crossed again - while leaving the farmer's market, we bumped into them just as they were heading over to check it out. Another short conversation and more hugs.
     Sunday afternoon, my husband and I decided to wander down to one of several coffee shops in the area. Being the 7th of the month, I was feeling a little melancholy, with Michael in my thoughts even more than usual. It would be one of the very rare times when I would not be taking flowers to Boal Memorial on this date. My husband had been walking a few steps ahead of me and was waiting on a bench near the cafe. Sitting down beside, I was about to ask him what he'd like to order when I noticed a memorial plaque on the backrest, and reading the inscription, realized it was in honour of a young man who had lived in Whistler, and died just over a year ago, at age twenty-four. Through a mutual friend, I met his mother once, shortly after her son's death, and we had shared our experiences regarding the deaths of our sons, including reference to the metaphysical realm. What were the chances? Of all the seating available in Whistler, this was the ideal place for us to be on this day. 
     After coffee, it was time to head home. En route, we stopped in Squamish to purchase some bike accessories, and as I was leaving that particular aisle, I thought about our friends who live there, a couple we haven't seen for a few months due to his out-of-province work commitments. I fleetingly wondered what the chances were of running into them here in this big box store but promptly dismissed the notion since it was late Sunday afternoon and thought that if they had needed any items here, they would probably have done so earlier in the day. Then seconds later, as I turned the corner, there they were, smack dab in the middle of the store, and they ended up inviting us up to their place for a short visit. They too happen to live with the loss of a twenty-five year old son. Perfect timing.
     An astounding run of closely timed, out-of-the-blue experiences ... the Universe certainly does know how to make a great impression!
www.diaryofanintuitive.com
Photo credit: www.whistler.com

Believe It!

     To anyone who may find the following story hard to believe, I understand. The experience happened to me, and I can scarcely believe it myself.
     Late this morning, in the glorious sunshine, I wandered into the backyard and settled into the lounge chair. Feeling fatigued, due to a persistent cough and cold, I had listened to my body and decided to spend some time relaxing rather than attempting yard work. Observing the clouds, listening to the birds, and getting lost in the beauty of the garden, my mind wandered. I was looking forward to seeing my daughters and grandchildren later today to celebrate Mother's Day together, but that did not take away from desperately missing my son Michael. And so, of course, I asked. Would he please let me know that he was near, to show me that he could see how much my heart ached for his presence. Then, I just sat in that space, where spirit meets spirit. 
     A short time later, my husband arrived home and came over to sit with me. After both acknowledging the added challenges of this day, we got up and began walking towards the house together when I spotted something shiny lying on the grass. As I got closer, I saw that it was a round, silver object, and bending down to pick it up, I thought perhaps it might be a foil seal from a small bottle. However, when I turned it over, I froze. In my hand lay a clip-on metal badge, the size of a quarter, with the initial M on a soft pink background! Reaching my hand out to show my husband what I had found, I tried to explain what I had asked for just minutes before he got home, but I could not. Seeing this had literally taken my breath away. Tears of gratitude rolled down my cheeks, instead. I had never seen anything like this before. When I was finally able to speak, I filled him in. I told him that feathers, pennies and hummingbirds had all crossed my mind as possible signs, but I could never have imagined anything like this. And the fact that we had both walked over this exact spot many times yesterday, was not lost on us. It is only steps away from the house and we are certain that we would have noticed it - one hundred percent.
     As I turned to go into the house, my husband got out the push mower to cut the grass. Watching him, I realized that had I not found this gift when I did, he would likely have mowed right over it, then picked up this piece of "rubbish" and tossed it. I also recognized the perfection of him being here when I found it, allowing us to share this special experience. 
     Looking over at this gift now lying on the table beside me, I can scarcely believe my eyes.  But clearly, the magic that happens when one connects with the invisible knows no limits. Believe it! 
www.diaryofanintuitive.com


Update: May 11/15 1:30pm       
This morning I read the comment Gena posted on my personal FB page and it got me thinking. A MET badge? I had been to that museum seven years ago when she and I, along with my daughters, spent a week in New York, but I have no recollection of seeing this badge there. Not that this is surprising ... I often forget details like this, which is why I write things down, whereas Gena forgets nothing. After some online sleuthing I found out that indeed, up until 2013, rather than using paper entrance tickets, these badges were given out instead. And then it hit me. Early Saturday evening, I had taken a box filled with travel gear and guide books out into the backyard to sort through. I can only assume that the badge had somehow ended up in that box all those years ago. I did not see it when I was going through the items Saturday evening but it does explain how it likely ended up on the lawn. Now, where does that leave me with regards to this post? I know that signs from the invisible help support me on my journey. So many signs over the years have lifted my spirits, including hearts, hummingbirds, feathers, pennies, initials, and more. This sign was no less powerful ... finding this item with the initial M on a pink background on Mother’s Day was incredibly wonderful. None of that has changed. What has changed is that my logical side is able to relax now that I understand how it probably got there. And what about the magic?  Well, I also still believe that magic happens ... the magic of that badge dropping out of that box in that spot only to be discovered by me on Mother’s Day ... magic to the nth degree.

Under, Over, and Intertwined

     Over the course of the four hour drive up to the cabin this past weekend, my husband and I encountered almost every type of weather imaginable - heavy rains, followed by hail, then snow, wind, drizzle, and finally, sunshine. Most impressive was driving directly under three vibrant rainbows, in short succession, with the ends of the arcs seeming to touch down just off either side of the highway. And as we wound our way through scenic Manning Park, a trip we have made well over a hundred times, I had an aha moment: the ski and snowboard terrain within this provincial park is located in an area called Gibson Pass. My son's last name intertwined with that of his closest friend, in this beautiful setting. A wonderful symbol of the Gibson and Manning connection - how had I not made this observation before? Come to think of it, I cross a span called Rainbow Bridge when walking along my favourite trail in that park. Under, over, and intertwined ... weaving rich moments into my life.
Image credit: unknown
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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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