Life, Love, and Loss

     While practicing yoga in my She Shed this morning, I acknowledged the beauty of the rainy weather visible through the glass door, as I reflected on the intense ups and downs of this past week. A roller coaster of emotions to process on the mat.
     It began Monday morning, with a call informing me that my brother had been admitted to hospital due to suspected heart attack symptoms. I spent the day sending both him and his wife loving energy, knowing that whatever transpired in there, it would be without the support of any visitors at all.
     Tuesday, I received an encouraging update on his health, along with the good news that a procedure had been scheduled. Then, deciding I needed a hit of grandkids, I hopped on my bike with coffee tumbler in hand, to my older daughter's home for an outdoor visit, all of us maintaining our two metre spacing.
     Wednesday, a COVID wedding with five of us present and physically distancing, of course.  No matter how big or small, officiating wedding ceremonies always brings me joy. Then later in the day, a treasured conversation with my younger daughter, hearing about her rich metaphysical experiences.
     Thursday morning, a message from my brother that he was feeling good and going home. A huge sense of relief. Then after lunch, I walked down to the village to tie a bouquet to my mother's memorial bench so that it would be in place for the following day's anniversary of her death. 
     Friday, I enjoyed a morning forest walk with my husband, reminiscing about my mom and thinking about how much I wished she could still be part of our lives. Then after our lunch, the two of us drove out to the valley for an overdue visit with my brother and his wife, during which we chatted for over four hours, seated around their backyard fire pit. So grateful for the chance to see them in person.  
     Saturday afternoon, I had the immerse pleasure of officiating two more weddings, both outdoors under dry skies.
     And then, Sunday. With three outdoor weddings scheduled, it would be a full day. After the first one, I had a couple of hours free, so I returned a missed call from a young friend. Sadly, I was informed that Kelly's dad had died unexpectedly, on Friday evening. My heart immediately went out to his family in particular, now thrust once again into that painful state of the newly grieving. I had the honour of being the celebrant at his marriage. Now, less than four years later, he has returned to the in-between, reunited with his daughter.
     A few hours later, after returning home from the third wedding, I sat down to relax with a glass of wine. Scrolling through social media, I saw the article that I knew my husband had recently been interviewed for by the local paper. Well written, it was primarily about my husband's sense of humour as expressed on the sign mounted outside his business here in our community. However, partway through, still within the context of the story, there was reference made to Mike and Kelly's deaths. So of course, the tears started flowing.
     A week filled with deeply emotional experiences of life, love, and death. All clear reminders of what really matters.
www.diaryofanintuitive.com
Image credit: Gordon Johnson, Pixabay

Name-Twin Milestones

     

     Within days of each other, long time name-twin friends of Mike and Kelly celebrated huge milestones in their lives - his close friend Mike got married, and her best friend Kelly became a mother. A mountain wedding, where I had the privilege of performing the ceremony, and the birth of a baby girl whom I look forward to meeting soon. This Mike and this Kelly are living life to the fullest, and it makes my heart sing to see them both put heaps of love and effort into creating lives worth living.

     Of course, it is also during times like these where my mind plays with the what-ifs: What if my Mike and his Kelly were still alive ... what would their lives look like now? Would there have been a wedding to enjoy, a birth to celebrate? Observing their close friends' milestones is always bittersweet, but the double name-twin element this time around temporarily added a little weight. However, staying connected to so many of their friends enriches my life deeply and it is a gift for which I am very grateful. And of course, I know that as their good friends celebrate love and life, Mike and Kelly's spirits are right there with them, enthusiastically cheering them on! 
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Seven Years

     Yesterday marked seven years without his physical presence, but now that March 7th has passed, the nausea and deep fatigue that set in earlier this week is beginning to wane.
     The sun was kind enough to make an appearance for my weekly forest walk with the chocolate lab yesterday morning. Strolling along the creekside trail, taking it slow for a change, fully present to nature's healing elements. Recognizing and breathing in the early signs of spring, of renewal. Chirping birds, filtered sunshine, purling creek, and flowering bulbs bursting forth through the decay -  sights and sounds to nourish my soul.
     For dinner, as we have done on each anniversary, our family replicated the simple meal of chicken fajitas that Michael and Kelly had prepared for us the evening before they left for that fateful cabin weekend. A meaningful way for us to mark this day.
    With yesterday behind us, and spring just around the corner, we embrace the additional light and renewed life before us. 
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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.
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Celebrating Souls

    

     Born to a Catholic mother fifty-nine years ago today, I share my birthday with All Souls' Day, the holy day set aside for honouring the dead. On November 2nd, Catholics pray for the souls of loved ones who have died. My understanding is that they specifically pray for the purification of souls stuck in purgatory, in order that they may reach heaven. 
     My exposure to the Catholic teachings during my upbringing was minimal, limited to Christmas and Easter celebrations. And it has never occurred to me to pray for my mother's soul over the thirteen years she's been gone. I trust that her soul is exploring an existence in the perfect location, exactly where it is meant to be. However, today it occurred to me that choosing to be born to a Catholic mother on November 2nd may, on some level, be connected to my sense of serenity when considering life, death and beyond. The specific intention behind All Souls' Day does not resonate with me; instead, as I celebrate my birth, I send much love to the souls of my departed loved ones, wherever they may be. 
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Skeletal Perspective

     I love deep tissue massages; nurturing, healing body work enhancing my physical and emotional well-being. However, I know people who, after completing a session, described it as being akin to torture. And no doubt, others would describe their deep tissue massage experience as falling somewhere between heaven and hell.
     During our hour-long appointments, the therapist and I may engage in conversation, but often, the massage occurs in silence. This way, I can consciously tune in to each area of my body as it is being worked on, adding a serene meditative aspect to the experience. 
     Near the end of my last session, while lying face up on the massage table with eyes closed, covered only with a thin blanket, the notion of being on a gurney in a morgue came to mind. It occurred to me that the position I was lying in on the table will likely be the same one my body will be placed in once my life force has departed. Adorned with a toe tag, there may be some poking and prodding before being whisked away to its final destination. And for those choosing burial rather than cremation, their body would be buried in this same position, and years later, only their skeleton would remain.
     This observation came without any sadness or fear; a neutral perspective positioned between the macabre connotations of skeletons during Hallowe'en festivities and the upbeat energy it represents during Day of the Dead celebrations. A vivid reminder of how integral perspective is in terms of how one experiences life, and death.
Artist: Jacques Gamlin
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Between Life and Death

I have just finished an excellent read, the newly released Opening Heaven's Door, written by award-winning journalist and novelist Patricia Pearson, wherein she explores extraordinary experiences people have had as they approached the boundary between life and death. Those near death, palliative care staff, scientists, and theologists, all weigh in.  The author successfully blends first-hand experiences with thorough scientific research, which can only help move the public conversation on this topic into a healthier and more positive dimension. Perhaps, in the near future, someone like my friend Nancy*, who received a tremendously comforting message from her father shortly after he died, can freely share that experience with her family and other friends, rather than feel the need to keep quiet lest they sully it with any one, of many, dismissive "explanations".  She confided to me that she was unwilling to risk having the gift of her deceased father's precious words ripped away from her. When addressing this issue, the author includes this quote from a medical school professor emeritus: "Perceiving a spiritual being, whether loving or cruel, has become an illegal experience." I am hopeful that sooner, rather than later, our collective voices will rise to shatter this sad commentary on our culture.

* name changed to protect privacy

In Sync with the Weather

Up at the cabin, my moods seem to be in sync with the weather today. Contentment while painting the exterior siding under cloudy skies. Uplifted by the sight of a tiny, white feather resting on the ground beside me, just as the sun broke through for a brief visit. Gratitude for getting in a long lake swim before the winds picked up. Then, in concert with the summer storm rolling in, shedding a few tears when one of the songs from Mike's service spontaneously broke the silence, as the temperamental stereo decided to spring to life. Now, while listening to the remainder of that soundtrack and observing the ongoing interplay between clouds, sun and rain, I breathe in all the expressions of life that surround me.

Celebrating Love and Life

That was the best MGMG tournament yet.  Taking place on a warm, sunny day miraculously sandwiched in-between one and half days of steady rain with cool temperatures on either side.  Surpassing our fundraising goal by donating $4611 to Canuck Place Children's Hospice.  Inviting new people into the fold.  Delighting in the sweet energy of an increasing number of little ones present.  Experiencing an abundance of hugs, laughs, and stories, along with some tears, as well. Friends and family not missing Mike and Kelly any less, but honouring them both by celebrating love and life, fully.  Go us!

Ready to Live Life

Early Saturday morning, almost a week before his due date and a mere half hour after mom's arrival at the hospital, a healthy baby boy was born. Apparently, our little Pisces grandson can hardly wait to get on with living his life!  Celebrating his birth with champagne and sushi, we welcomed this precious being into our family. Let the adventures begin.

Gift from Spirit

I have just finished reading Proof of Heaven, a neurosurgeon's personal account of his near-death experience (NDE) and journey into the afterlife.  As he himself states, this man of science was the perfect individual to experience becoming deathly ill, falling into a week-long coma, then miraculously recovering to tell his story.  He gives scientific credibility to what many of us already know to be true - that after shedding our bodies, we continue to exist in pure spirit form.
As I reflect on his story, an idea comes to mind.  Since most of us have not had a NDE to draw on, let us consider this scenario instead. Imagine your spirit as a separate being existing completely outside of your body, conducting itself in the invisible realm, just as it will when you die.  Filled with love, it looks over at you living this life here on earth.  What one piece of advise would your spirit gift to you today?

In and Out of the Woods

While jogging in the woods, the phrase out of the woods came to mind.  I smiled when I recognized the significance of this thought with regards to where I was.  Not only in the woods, but specifically on the same trail where I had seen that pink heart-shaped balloon containing Michael and Diesel a couple of days after they died.  Now, I played with these two words - in and out.  In the woods is where I experience deep connection to all that is, here and beyond.  I regain clarity about life. While I was certain about being in the woods, I was less certain about being out of them.  I further considered this idiom's meaning; no longer in danger or difficulty, the most difficult part of the journey has passed. Was I in danger?  No, I never was.  Am I having difficulty?  At times, of course.  Has the most difficult part of this journey passed?  That I cannot answer since my journey is not over.  And if it never gets any easier, so be it.  Being in the woods will remain my salve. 

Reflections

Last night, I sat out on the deck breathing in the beauty of the sun setting behind the hill.  While the scattered clouds reflected orange hues onto the lake, I reflected on yet another magnificent MGMG event. From rookie beginners to seasoned golfers they had arrived, understanding that the level of proficiency out on the course was irrelevant to the degree of enjoyment they would experience over the course of the weekend.  Ranging from their early twenties to mid sixties, scores of friends and family members participated, with two toddlers taking it all in as well.  And then there were those who were with us in spirit, unable to attend this time around and much missed.  A few new faces were drawn into the fold as well, friends of friends - people who had never met Mike or Kelly but had accepted the invitation to join this special community.  The weekend was a resounding success with great conversation, plenty of laughter, heartfelt hugs, and fundraising for Canuck Place.

When I awoke at 7am this morning, my husband was already gone - he had left the cabin around 5am to make the four hour drive to work.  My plans were to finish cleaning, then leave for home later this afternoon. When I received a call from him around 8:30am, I assumed he was almost there.  Instead, he was calling to tell me that he was still in Princeton.  He had hit a deer an hour into his trip.  The bad news was that the car was likely going to be a write-off.  The good news was that he was perfectly fine - thank heaven.  However, when he filled me in on the details of the accident, my thinking went from "these things happen" to "what the hell?"  On the way home from this special weekend, my husband had hit that deer within a stone's throw of the memorial cross - mere metres from Mike and Kelly's accident site.  The car had then been towed to the auto wrecker up the hill, the same place Mike's car had lingered for months after that accident just over two years ago.  What??  When I finally picked my husband up a few hours later, we stopped at the wrecker's lot to retrieve some belongings - an extremely surreal experience.  Now, sitting here in my living room as dusk falls, I am still shaking my head in disbelief and reflecting on the mysteries of life.     

Having Resolve

Having resolve means deciding firmly on a course of action, making the best of a challenging situation.  It requires digging deep to draw on one's inner strength, which leads to becoming even stronger.
Having resolve is what my newly separated, fifty-something friend is choosing as she creates a new life for herself after being informed by her husband of almost thirty years that he no longer wants to be married.   
Having resolve is what my recently married, twenty-eight-year-old acquaintance is demonstrating as she courageously undergoes surgery, chemo, and radiation for her recent breast cancer diagnosis.
Having resolve is what I choose every morning, then repeatedly employ over the course of the day in order to not go under from the grief.  The reward is personal growth, and opportunity for personal growth is what our life challenges are all about.

Emotional Tasks

Tasks relating to Michael's life continuing to weave their way through mine.  More than a year after his passing.  Finding a new home for his prized mountain bike.  Check.  Collecting and submitting his final income tax return.  Check.  As a group, completing the puzzle he and Kelly had begun.  Check.  None of these undertakings particularly daunting, yet a significant emotional charge accompanying each one. Processing them on a visceral level.  Calling for another expenditure of emotional energy.  The reserves of which still running low.  And so it goes.

Rich and Vivid Life

Preparing for bed a couple of nights ago.  Expressing gratitude for being able to experience life with an integrated connection to the unseen. Wondering how to articulate to another what it feels like to live this way.  Immediately shown an analogy.  Imagining a person seeing the entire world without colour.  Solely in shades of black and white. Certainly functional, but fairly dull.  Then flipping a switch.  Allowing all the colours of the rainbow to be observed and factored in.  Adding a huge measure of intensity to all perceptions.  Bringing increased vibrancy to daily life.  If that individual were then to incorporate the additional layer of gaining information through intuition and spirit connection, he would experience yet another magnificent shift.  Just as dramatic as the first.  Resulting in an even richer and more vivid life. 

Brighter Days

Despite these grey and damp skies, the unmistakable presence of hope exists.  Noticing a multitude of spring's early signs.  Well ahead of the official date, still four weeks away.  Appreciating clusters of delicate snowdrops in a neighbour's garden.  Passing by bushes profusely adorned with pink hued buds.  Grateful for the masses of daffodils inching their way closer to flowering.  Surprisingly spotting an early blooming cherry tree yesterday afternoon.  All this new life, combined with increasing daylight, attempting to brighten the days with optimism and cheer. 

Intriguing Obituaries

Browsing through the obituaries in the paper this morning.  Something I have done for years.  True to that Scorpio trait of being intrigued by death.  Noting the words chosen when condensing a life into a few sentences.  Reading between the lines.  Observing which aspects of a person's lifetime are included and considering those which might purposefully be omitted.  Paying attention to their ages.  A few living mere hours, some over one hundred years.  Most falling somewhere in-between.  Wondering about those indicating no service by request. Recognizing that the majority of obituaries are written by loved ones, a number by care facilities, and on occasion, by the individual themselves.  An exercise my son had undertaken less than a year before he died.  Unbeknownst to his family.  To facilitate gaining clarity for himself.  Sealing it in an envelope.  One of his sisters discovering it within days of his passing.  His father reading it aloud at his funeral. Imparting a clear sense of what was in Michael's heart and what he aspired to be remembered for.  Ending with, "You will be greatly missed!"  Indeed, he certainly is.

Spirited and Beautiful

Twenty-eight years ago today.  Welcoming my second daughter into this world.  This spirited little Aquarian born cross-eyed with crooked feet.  Beautiful just the same.  Bestowing upon her a name that never quite fit.  Then legally changing it just before her first birthday.  So thankful this wise soul chose me to be her mother.  That she picked this family to be born into.  Teaching me to be a better person.  Challenging me to consider other perspectives.  Continuing to enrich my life with her love.  Every day. 

Life Imitating Art

Michael had been working in marketing at his father's printing business in the months before he died.  One of his minor tasks was taking over responsibility for the outdoor sign.  To ensure that a good selection of humorous phrases were posted there.  Entertaining the public as they passed by.  Installing this one a few weeks before the accident:
  
  ʇuǝpıɔɔɐ  

uɐ pɐɥ noʎ

 sıɥʇ pɐǝɹ

uɐɔ noʎ ɟı 

Posting it on their company Facebook page as well.  Seemingly funny at the time.  In hindsight, perhaps a bizarre example of life imitating art instead.