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.
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Walk With Me

     Easter Sunday's forecast called for sunshine, so my husband and I took the short ferry ride over to Bowen Island for lunch and an easy hike around the lake. We had already celebrated early Easter with a family brunch on Good Friday, so our day was wide open.
     The last time we had visited Bowen together was in the spring of 2010, during our son's six week stay at The Orchard Recovery Centre. For six consecutive Saturdays, my husband and I travelled there to learn more about addiction and begin rebuilding relationships. After one of those sessions, the three of us had used our free time to walk around this very lake together. It was a memorable afternoon because, for the first time in a long time, we were speaking to each other from the heart, which stirred up many intense emotions, negative and positive. That year, Easter weekend fell during Michael's six week stay there, so this was an added layer my husband and I were now experiencing.
     All the emotions and memories now being triggered was not something I had foreseen at all. Thankfully, a mantra soon appeared - Walk with me. During each long in-breath, I silently expressed those words, and with each long out-breath, I slowly released the air in my lungs. I repeated this cycle as needed over the course of the hike, visualizing Michael's spirit walking with us now.
     Later that day, while approaching the dock for the return ferry, I looked up to see a lone, majestic eagle fly in, very low, directly overhead. I overheard the young, native woman walking behind me tell her friend, "In my culture this is a powerful spiritual symbol. My grandmother will be so happy when I tell her about this." For me, this eagle's appearance was an incredible sign of support. This trip certainly became much more than I had anticipated ... it turned out to be the perfect way to connect with our son on this Easter Sunday.
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Snow Day

Snow day.  Rare occurrence in this part of the country.  Some communities in our area enjoying one or two this week.  Schools and businesses shutting down.  Opening up unexpected space in many people's lives.  Time out.  A gift from Mother Nature.  Encouraging folks to slow down.  Step away from the frantic pace many have adapted. Creating an opportunity to rediscover a sense of play.  Read a book. Savour a cup of tea.  Engage in board games.  Get out for a walk. Perhaps reawakening the joy these simple pastimes can bring.

Awaiting Lighter Moments

Dull and flat.  These two words aptly describing both the inside and out. Missing them so very much.  That space they inhabited so noticeably empty.  Acutely feeling that void.  Resulting in a dullness within.  The gloomy, damp, grey weather adding its unwelcoming layer of flatness to the day.  However, there is a walk along the river with my young companion this morning, followed by the book club get-together this evening.  Hence, lighter moments await.  They always do.            

Cloud of Grief

Yesterday morning.  Blindsided by a heavy cloud of grief.  Blew in without warning.  Undeterred by the bright skies and sunshine outside. Stubbornly anchoring itself.  For no particular reason.  The date having no special significance.  Not missing them more than on other days.  It just happened.  This process of grieving so unpredictable.  Resulting in a 'holding my head above water' kind of day.  Profound sadness penetrating my entire being.  Weighing it down.  Tears flowing. Breathing laboured.  Despite meditation.  Not eased by the self talk of how much worse it could be.  Its firm grip remaining even after a long walk along the ocean.  Not relieved by a conversation with a friend or phone call to a relative.  Accepting this is what it looks like at times. Hopeful that today will be better.  Confident of being able to weather it if not.

Giving Thanks

Seven months now.  Some milestones passed.  Others yet to come.  The flow of each day still very much up and down, in and out.  Going along for the ride to the best of my ability.  So looking forward to this weekend away.  A tradition started three years ago.  Celebrating Thanksgiving Gambier Island style.  Games to play, dogs to walk, and a bountiful turkey dinner to share.  Above all, time simply spent in each other's company.  So much to be thankful for.

Steeling Oneself

To steel oneself.  An expression that resonates of late.  Visualizing a length of rebar inserted into the spine.  In order to remain upright and carry on.  The opposing image, that of a puddle.  Just lying there.  Unable to partake of or undertake anything.  So much looking forward to the seawall walk with a good friend this evening.  Followed by a bite with further conversation.  Will continue to steel myself today.  Puddles are unable to enjoy such outings. 

Perfect Morning Together

This morning, a young autistic man and I will walk the mountain side trail together.  I do not know him well but once a week we spend a few hours in each other's company, rain or shine.  He seems to enjoy our excursions which he communicates to me with his 'thumbs up' gesture.  We often include Gulliver on these walks and the three of us wander along each enjoying the outing at our own pace. My experience, his experience, and the dog's experience are all occurring in the same location at the same time. However, each of us processes it uniquely, with no one way having more value than the others.  Each one of us is having our own perfect morning together!