Feeling the Love in Hawaii

These past two weeks have been incredibly nourishing, relaxing, and overflowing with love  - two of the best weeks of my life.  Months ago, when one of my daughters suggested we all go on a family vacation to Hawaii this year, it was an easy sell.  The last time our family had spent extended holiday time together was when the kids were in their teens. So on November 1st, off we flew.  En route, it did come up that this would be a bittersweet experience since the circumstances would also bring a heightened sense of our loss.  However, we knew that the joyful energy of the two little ones would be a wonderful asset.  And I reminded my family that there would be obvious signs from Michael denoting his presence, and indeed, there were many.  

Our first morning on the Big Island happened to coincide with my birthday. When I awoke, I lay alone in bed for a few minutes, gazing out at the palm trees before joining everyone downstairs.  The waves of sadness were eased with the overwhelming gratitude I felt to be starting my new year in such an extraordinary way.  Later that afternoon, while our grandchildren were napping, my husband and I explored a nearby ocean side trail which wound its way over black lava rock, with chunks of dead, white coral scattered on either side.  Minutes into our walk, I was overjoyed to see the first sign: a heart-shaped piece of coral lying in the middle of the path. 

A little further along, we discovered numerous heart outlines, perhaps fifty, or more, created with white coral pieces, most containing words or initials inside.  I could hardly believe my eyes - I had never seen anything like it.  The white hearts looked gorgeous against the backdrop of the black lava and I wondered if I would see K & M, but did not. We were approaching the end of the trail which opened up onto a small, sandy beach and were about to ascend the stairs leading away from the shore when I saw it - a huge, black lava heart outline lying in the sand, about 2 metres high, containing the letters MJG!  Michael James Gibson.  A poignant birthday present.  Since I was without a camera, I planned on returning the following day to take a photo.  After walking a ways along the resort path, we turned around in order to follow the trail back to our townhouse.  When we were back at the top of the stairway, we looked down and saw a couple who were rearranging the initials in the heart beside "ours"  to make it their own.  They had a phone and when asked, happily agreed to email me a photo of the heart containing MJG.  They joked that it was a good thing we came along when we did, otherwise "ours" might have been changed as well.  It had not occurred to me that these hearts were in constant flux and indeed, the following day, MJG was gone. 

Midway through the trip, it was the large, cheeky turtle marked with the number 13 (a resident of the Honu family inhabiting the popular bay we were snorkeling in)  playfully hip-checking a unsuspecting male snorkeler, that made me smile.  Michael had had an affinity for turtles, and his favourite number was 13.  

And on the final evening, while standing on the shore, watching the most magnificent sunset of our trip, all of us laughing as my granddaughter splashed fully clothed in the waves, we took up the offer of a fellow tourist to have our family photo taken.  While posing for the shot, I was filled to the brim with love, and missed my son deeply.  Just as the picture was being taken, my heart melted as I realized that the song being played by the musicians behind us, at the beach restaurant we had just left, was Somewhere Over the Rainbow, one of the three songs played during Michael's service.

This family vacation has been two full weeks of feeling blessed beyond belief.

Much Appreciated Distraction

Went for a long walk in the forest this morning.  Made a gratitude list one hundred items long this afternoon.  Efforts to improve my emotional state.  On this fourth Easter without him, it is still gut-wrenchingly difficult.  Speaking with other mothers living with loss, I know I am not alone in feeling this way.  Thank heaven for the dinner invitation we received for later today, where both daughters and their families will be present as well.  A much appreciated distraction.    

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.

Gift of Happiness

Taking advantage of the dry weather yesterday afternoon, my daughters, granddaughter, and I, headed over to the outdoor German Christmas Market.  Bundled up against the cold, warm beverages in hand, we wandered from stall to stall, appreciating the European wares, festive decorations, and delicious fare.  While holding the baby, I watched my daughters conferring with each other over possible stocking stuffers for their husbands, and felt deeply connected to my maternal lineage, both present and past.  Many years ago, as a young mother, I had visited a similar market in Germany, with my mother and her sister.  Here, as the Oma, out with my daughters and granddaughter, I recognized that the cultural and hereditary connections of women in my family were very much alive.  After saying our goodbyes, I arrived home, and while unpacking the white dove I had purchased for my tree, I was aware that every cell in my body felt fully activated.  It had been quite some time since I felt this way, and as I searched for the word to best describe this state, it eventually dawned on me: Happiness.  A simple outing, resulting in a cherished gift, that serves to sustain me today.    

A Mother Hen Experience

Low energy weekend.  Emotionally and physically.  Acutely missing my son.  Making every effort to pull myself up.  Swim at the pool.  Long meditation.  Out for a run.  All with little success.  Suddenly, the image of a mother hen flashing through my mind.  Identifying with her immediately.  Proud of her baby chicks.  Happy to see them flourishing, exploring their environment, making their own way.  Then finding herself momentarily faltering.  Keenly feeling that empty space left behind by the one now gone.  Experiencing an overwhelming desire to gather in the ones remaining.  Wanting to hold them close.  Needing the reassurance of that motherly connection.  Enlisting help from my daughters.  Both thankfully able to accommodate.  One having coffee with me,  the other coming over to play cards.  Helping to soothe this mother's heart.

Wondering Where You Are

Browsing through my niece's old photos on Facebook.  Coming upon one with the caption reading, "Christmas at the Grandparents". Showing the four young girl cousins posing in front of Oma's fireplace on Christmas Eve.  My daughters and my brother's two.  Taken in the mid 80's.  Posted in 2007.  Michael writing the very first comment.  Three simple words.  Asking, "where am I?" He being the fifth and last born of the grandchildren on this side. The fact is that photo was taken in December 1985, two weeks before he was born.  This coming Christmas Eve, it will once again be the four girls together.  Celebrating here at our home.  Now all married women building families of their own.  And Mikey, we will all indeed be wondering where you are. 

Nourishing My Soul

Family dinners.  Making the effort.  Investing the time.  Not just limited to special occasions.  A Thursday evening, just because.  Interaction and communication revolving around a meal.  My daughters and son-in-laws believing in the importance of this too.  All taking turns hosting this cherished event .  Sharing supper and ourselves with each other.   Experiencing that deep connection, love and support.  Bonding. Contributing to the strength of the family.  Simple fare or a gourmet meal, this always nourishes my soul. 

Peacefully Coexisting

Another warm summer evening.  Attended an outdoor concert by the sea.  Two young musicians sharing their talents.  Went alone, but felt connected.  Followed by an impromptu late dinner nearby with one of my daughters.  Later, relaxing back home on the patio.  Breathing in the stillness and solitude by candlelight.  Soon interrupted by the sounds of a bear plodding along the small creek behind the hedge.  Mere metres away.  With its strong sense of smell.   Each of us knowing the other was there.  No fear.  Peacefully coexisting.  

Urge to Call

Find myself longing to talk with my daughters more often.  Phone conversations every few days.  Meeting up weekly if possible.  Craving that ongoing connection.  Even more so than before.  In part, to counter my sense of vulnerability.  Of loss.  While reflecting on my recent phone conversations with them, the urge to call my son came on with great intensity.  The desire to speak with him as I could when he had a physical presence.  To ask about his week.  Touching base.  Longing for the banter.  Grateful for the new style of communication we do have, but often missing the old.

Uplifting Moments

Yesterday, late afternoon.  Pleased to see the sun finally shining while heading out to accomplish a few routine errands.  Never imagining that so many uplifting moments awaited me, interspersed between my stops.  An impromptu cafe visit over iced tea with one of my daughters.  A chance meeting with an acquaintance mentioning her desire to plan a walk together.   Saying hello to a former neighbour.  Being stopped by the mother of one of Michael's classmates offering her condolences and taking time to chat.  Receiving an email from Kelly's family informing me that arrangements had already been made.  So much heartfelt energy shared within the span of two hours.  Followed by the joy of arriving home to share with my husband that I had had a GREAT afternoon!   

Road Trip

Pointed the car due south and set out on a road trip over the line.  No long list of things to see or do.  Time to just be.  Long overdue R & R.  Our last excursion to the Oregon Coast took place exactly twenty six years ago.  Two very young daughters, four months pregnant with our son.  The space bookended by these two visits embodied his time here with us.  Four months either side.  Intriguing.

Mother's Day

Everywhere I turn, I notice the promotions for this upcoming Mother's Day.  They arrive as flyers in my home, ads in the newspaper, commercials on television and radio, and on signage in retail locations.  I have always enjoyed celebrating this special day, without much fanfare but always with sincerity.  To commemorate my first Mother's Day in 1982, a beautiful card arrived in the mail from my best friend, who is also my oldest daughter's godmother.  What a simple but thoughtful gesture.  Over the years, there have been homemade brunches, flowers, drawings, cards, and occasional small gifts.  Being a mother continually challenges me to dig deep and as a result, I become a stronger, more compassionate, and courageous human being. Throughout this past week, I have once again been given the opportunity to practice staying focused on now.  When my mind begins to drift ahead and think about this coming Mother's Day without my son,  I become anxious, overwhelmingly sad, and feel a hole in my heart.  On Sunday I will be sharing dinner with my family, lovingly prepared by my daughters and their husbands, and for that I am so very grateful.  I am still my son's mother, I will always be his mother, and all the experiences of these past twenty nine years of being a mother will help me celebrate this first Mother's Day without him the best I can.