Tag Archives: death

Uncategorized

Snowbirds

This afternoon we went out for a family walk. Forced family fun time with my monsters, my sister and her kids, and my mom. As we were getting ready my cousin texted saying the Snowbirds were about to buzz our house. They were at the air show in Springbank and could see them heading for our place. We dashed outside and had an awesome private show 

This was taken on my iPhone – it was much more impressive. I’m amazed at how they hold their formation.  
I mentioned to my sister after that if you were into planes it was the equivalent of us wanting to ride in the RCMP musical ride. I have a friend who did this – what a dream job. 

It was a happiness moment to stop and watch the planes dance past us over and over. Time was suspended and there was just us and the sky show. 

Before we went out walking we were talking about how every day without Dad just gets harder and harder. Doing all the things we used to do with him now without him is so difficult. But he loved life and loved us and I know he wants us to keep on finding happiness, so I will keep looking for it every single day.   

Standard
Uncategorized

Don’t drink from the bowl

Today’s happiness moment: sitting with Jacob while he ate his chicken noodle soup tonight. He says you know what I miss about grandpa? His chin chopper and his rules: no drinking from the bowl, no talking to the water. Then he looked at me, grabbed his bowl and took a big gulp of soup right from it. He looked around with a smirk and said do you think grandpa saw that? 

Missing Dad does not seem to be going away, if anything it gets more intense, but I love that we have these warm memories to share with each other. 

Standard
Uncategorized

Inside Out

Last night the kids, mom, and I went to see the movie Inside Out. It was an excellent movie – but while I knew it was a movie about emotions I didn’t realize it would unleash a tornado of our own emotions. 

Jacob and I drove home after the movie and he had an emotion explosion. It included a few things, but high up there was his sadness at losing his grandpa. I pulled the car over and gave him a big hug and held him while I listened to him vent out his feelings. I had already vented out my feelings in the darkness of the theatre. Good thing I’m getting used to this public crying thing. Sigh. 

The really great thing about this movie is that it opened the door for us to talk more about feelings. 

Jacob and I had to go into town to do some errands today and on the way in he said well, anger and sadness really got away from me yesterday. It was like anger was pushing things full throttle while sadness was touching all my memories and making them sad. I think fear was hiding over in the corner crapping his pants. 

I really appreciated how the movie showed that sadness could touch happy memories and make them sad. We sure feel that way about the memories of my Dad. I’ll remember something fun we did and for a moment I’m happy and then I remember Dad is gone and my memory becomes sad. Jacob said he felt the same way. It was good to know also that sadness was an important emotion in working things through. 

My favorite part was when the teenage boy saw the girl and all his emotions freaked out shouting girl girl girl 

We went to the mall before going to the Farmer’s Market and he saw his emotions there:

Look mom, here’s my anger and sadness.    
My happiness moment was at the Market. There was a guy there with remote control cars and Jacob and I raced each other and giggled and played together. The guy gave us extra time so we had almost a half hour to laugh and enjoy doing something together. A rich happiness moment. 

 

Standard
Uncategorized

Rebel Yell

I finished off Stampede Week by eating an entire bag of Those Little Donuts. I’m not kidding and I’m not proud of it (I’m a little proud actually). After serious testing over the years I can tell you that they’re the best mini donuts in the park – probably because they make them as you order them. And we ordered a lot last night. A bag for everyone and then it was fight to the death to hold onto yours. I lost one of my donuts to Jenna because I wasn’t paying  enough attention, but after that I held my bag closer. A very non-Ayurvedic meal, but a fun one nonetheless. 

But now that Stampde is over I need to get back to a better routine. Who am I kidding? I’ve been in a bad eating routine since we moved back. Better than it could have been, but I most certainly dealt with Dad’s illness and death by eating every piece of cake I could get my hands on. 

Now is the time to change that. I want to have lots of happy and healthy years ahead of me, and I know the best way to do that is to honour my body and soul. 

I haven’t gone out walking since Dad died – not because of Dad, but because of all the grizzly bears in the area. Anyone who tells you they’re all disappearing doesn’t live where I do, that’s for sure. On my walking path there was a mama and her triplets and then a few days later a male. I became bear-a-noid and did my working out on the elliptical at home. Fine, but not nearly as good for my body and soul. 

Today, bears be dammed, my Dotted Dog and I headed out for a walk/jog. I’m not a runner, but I’ve done the couch to 5K program a few times and liked/hated it. I don’t mind small runs when I’m in shape – no desire for long distance ones. I put some music on my phone – music from a time when I was younger and felt strong and powerful – and headed off. 

  
As I was jogging along singing loudly to Rebel Yell (which I knew would have the added benefit of scaring away any wildlife – unless they thought I was dying and therefore easy prey), I realized that was exactly what I am starting to do – finding my own rebel yell. Three years ago my body and soul were both broken. I had finally realized that unlike Sleeping Beauty, my Prince Charming was not going to rescue me and that I had better wake my own self up. And that I have. Sometimes I feel weak and not good enough, and then I remind myself of how far I’ve come. Three years ago I couldn’t walk across the room without being in unbearable pain. Now I run around, ride horses, garden, play with the kids, go walking, and do yoga – all impossible things three years ago. Thank goodness I decided to become my own hero. In doing that I also showed the kids they can become their own heros too. 

I think this building a better me is part of why I love living in this old house we live in so much. I can relate to this place. This house has been neglected and was empty, but it is deeply loved by the entire (extended) family. We are pouring life and love back into it. Good things come from this house. 

My happiness moment was Jacob lying with his huge teenage body on the couch. He looked at me as I walked by and said mom, please don’t tickle me. Which of course meant I sat right on top of him pinning him down and counted all his ribs. When he laughs like that he’s just like little Jacob of his younger days. The dog got so upset that he was getting all the attention she jumped on top of him as well – which worked out for me as I was able to tickle him better. Small happiness moments – what life is really made up of. Although our big happiness moments are pretty awesome too. 

Standard
Uncategorized

Jammin’ and the creek. 

I’m noticing that some of my happiness moments are also moments of sadness these days. The happiness outshines the sadness, but there is this bittersweet feeling that comes along with it. 

For example, today I had two happiness moments. I had bought flats of fruit yesterday. Blackberries (the best I’ve had in years), blueberries, strawberries, and cherries. So, today I had to deal with them. Dad always made the best freezer jam, my favorite being strawberry. He showed me how to make it, and I’ve made a few batches over the years. I’d kind of given up recently as it seemed every time I made a nice batch we would move and I’d have to give it all away. Last year I made what would end up being my last batch of jam with Dad while we were home for the summer. Today’s jam making was a happiness moment because I love jam and I love the memories of making jam with Dad. It was sad because it made me miss him oh so much. 

Since I was missing him, I kept on going down my emotional berry journey and made a blackberry pie. When my sister and I  were kids and we would go to Vancouver Island, Dad would go blackberry crazy and we would be out in ditches with buckets picking away. We then had to drive all the way back to Calgary with flats of blackberries in the back of the car (a 12 hour drive). One of the smells of my childhood is blackberries. Blackberries and horses…

  
It was over 30C here today. My car said 37C while I was driving around town. Hot hot hot. After we were done errands, I took the kids down to the creek. One of the best places on earth. 

  
Another happiness moment. One of the best summer moments is at the creek. We are so blessed that we can head down there when we want to cool down or just relax and enjoy the beauty. I have so many memories of being down at this spot. I used to ride my horse down there when I was a kid. Dad would take us swimming there, in the winter we’d skate down the creek. One of Dad’s favorite walking places is the ridge above, and we used to go look at wild flowers along the buffalo jumps. The last thing we did last summer before flying back to Virginia was go to the creek with Dad. I’m so grateful we had those creek moments last year. Again, bittersweet because it kicked me in the gut and made me miss him so. 

The kids were happily running towards the water while I stood there and bawled behind my sunglasses. 

But, the happiness outweighs the sadness. I’m thankful for all the fun memories and thankful we are still able to enjoy happiness. Dad embraced life so completely , I knew he spoke be happy to know that we were enjoying happiness moments that reminded me of him. 

Standard
Uncategorized

In the midst of a storm. 

We scattered Dad’s ashes today. We have some saved for one more area, but most of them went in his most beloved places around the ranch. 

How blessed Dad was that he had so many favourite spots all so close to his house. We live in a beautiful area and I have a lifetime of memories of walking over a hill or just glancing west and saying look at that view. Isn’t it amazing here?  

He’d told us a few places he wanted to be scattered and today we went out and tried to honour his wishes. 

Of course after days of 30C weather and a beautiful, sunny day; when we went out there were storm clouds blowing all around us and thunder crashing to the north and the west. But, in the midst of the storm where we stood together it was calm enough to do what we needed. 

There in the midst of the storm we quietly and lovingly said our prayers and sang our goodbyes and sent out our love to Dad. 

How lucky we are that we have each other. Blessed that we had Dad, blessed to have each other to walk through this with, blessed to have this beautiful area to walk our goodbye. I’m not doing so well with the goodbyes, but I’m  thankful I have these people to do the goodbyes with. The love and the shared memories will bind us together. 

I was thinking as we were doing this that its no wonder I and millions of people before me have stopped and dedicated life to figuring out the meaning of life, why are we here? Where do we go? What becomes of us? Because if all we are is just reduced to those ashes then it’s hard to see the point of it all. 

I am grateful for my faith because I believe that there is something after life. The curious and impatient human part of me would really appreciate knowing what that is. Again, a time when being able to call Dad up on the heaven phone would be useful. He could answer all those questions for me.  Is he still Dad and watching over us? Does he still know he’s Dad? Does he remember life here? 

Those are my questions, but I think I would also like to know for him – is he happy? Am I on the right path to discovering my spiritual truth? Was it scary? 

At the end of the day, for me, it all just comes back to faith. I have to believe that Dad is more than those ashes. That the part of Dad that made him Dad is still an energy being somehow and somewhere. Something that shines as brightly as Dad’s soul did can’t just cease to exist. 

The happiness moment was celebrating Dad’s life and remembering walking and talking with him in the areas we chose today. I miss him so deeply but I’m so thankful to have known him and to have had his unconditional love and strong guidance. 

One of Dad’s favourite places along the ridge. We walked there together many times.   

Standard
Uncategorized

Where are you?

We have had many discussions about where to “put” Dad. Again, one more interesting thing about cremation versus burial. With burial you know you have a plot (hopefully), you have a date and time, and you go in there. Much more ambiguous with cremation. There are so many different options as to what to do (or not do) with the ashes once you have them. We are still in the “not do” phase, but eventually we will do something.

Right now Dad’s ashes are in his room and I have made an interesting personal discovery about that. I firmly believed that I didn’t care where his ashes went. I knew where he wanted them, knew where we’d talked about scattering them, knew that Jacob in particular wanted a place to go and “remember Grandpa”. But I felt that for me it didn’t really matter where the ashes themselves were. I believe Dad is with me wherever I go, I feel him when I’m out walking, in the garden, or sitting on the deck. What did it matter where the ashes actually were?

Yet, I’ve noticed something. Every time I go into his room to grab something I stop, turn towards where the urn is and have a little conversation with him. Nothing heavy, but how are you doing today? I miss you, I hope you’re doing ok. And then it usually goes a little off kilter Is this as weird for you as it is for me? I can’t believe I’m standing here talking to you in that little box, yet here I am. And even though I really should be self conscious, I keep on babbling away about what’s going on in my life.

So, maybe it does matter where his ashes are? I was pretty surprised by this revelation. Even when I became consciously aware of doing it I couldn’t make myself stop. Just as I wouldn’t have walked through a room he was sitting in when he was alive and not have said something, I can’t walk through the room where he is now without having a little conversation. Weird as it is, it feels completely natural and it makes me feel happy instead of sad. It actually makes me much sadder to talk (or write) about it than it does to actually do it.

It’s been a whole month since he died. The longest month of my life. It feels like forever since it happened and yet….. it’s only been this one month. How can that be? How can I miss him so much my throat hurts, still not believe he’s really gone – how can all this time of such heartache only add up to one month?

Dad, I miss you. I feel your love still surrounding all of us, but what I wouldn’t give to walk out to the garden and find you crouched over some flower happily taking a photo.

Happiness moment today: I had to go to the library and download some things for my course. In general I don’t mind being unplugged at home (no internet), but once in a while it’s a bit of work to get the things I need. I decided instead of being productive and working I would watch old music videos like this one, and this one (because who wasn’t pounding it out on the dance floor to this beat?), and this one (OMG these guys are hilarious in concert – I’ve never seen a group of grown men have so much fun), and this one (that one especially because he was such a badass and then cried the entire time he was on Celebrity Apprentice). Songs I used to listen to in my early 20s when I never would have guessed I would end up searching for happiness 20 years later. Back then my happiness was easy and obvious. Ride my horse, hang with my friends, be fierce in knowing what I wanted. That me needs to spend some time with present me and remind me of how much easier and fun things used to be. It was a fun couple of hours spent tapping my toes.

Standard
Uncategorized

Emotion soup

I had another one of those *kick you in the gut* moments last night. I felt so blessed and thankful to be at Jacob’s graduation, and for him to have a cheering section of family watching him walk the stage. He’s had that extended cheering section missing from his life for 10 years. I am so proud of him. He’s worked so hard over the past 8 years and it’s sometimes been an overwhelming struggle (for us both). And, here he was graduating from middle school and proudly walking across the stage.

Because it’s a christian charter school, the ceremony involved prayer. At the very end of the ceremony, family came up behind the graduates and laid hands on our loved one as the teachers prayed for them individually. It was so moving and so spiritual, and I was so joyful to be a part of it. And yet…

The last time we laid hands on someone was during Dad’s last communion. The last time we all stood together and held hands in prayer was after he died. Suddenly I had this overwhelming feeling of loss. I was so sad that Dad wasn’t there to see Jacob graduate. He was so proud of him. He loved him so much. He wanted so badly to watch Jacob grow up.

So, I stood behind Jacob bawling my eyes out. Difficult to do with a dress on because there weren’t sleeves to snork into, nothing to wipe my eyes with. So, I just cried. And missed Dad. And praised Jacob for the fine young man he’s turning into.

Gut punch.

Today’s happiness moment: I got stuck behind a little old lady driving the back road into town this afternoon. Driving behind someone slow on a gravel road forces one to drive slow and far behind so as to not eat dust the entire way. Because of this slow drive I noticed that the wild roses are flowering in the ditch. I love those wild roses. This is the best time of the year to be in Alberta.

Standard
Uncategorized

Ain’t it fun…

I know we have all changed in some ways in the short time we have been home. Some of it has come through struggle and heartache. I had several moments in the last weeks of Dad’s life where I knew deep in my soul that what I was living in that moment would change me forever. Not all those changes are a bad thing either. Sure, there’s the broken feelings of missing Dad, but there was a certain strength I found during that time – and a special bonding with my mom and sister as we held each other close. That strength I will carry with me on the next part of my life journey. I got to know myself a lot better and discovered that I had a much deeper faith and love than I ever knew. 

I also see changes in the vibe of our household. The kids are happier being home – they love running across the yard to visit cousins, or to visit nana, or to visit the horses. Jenna spends hours riding her bike up and down the driveway and running up to the barn to see the cats. Jacob can play with his cousin, and gets to ride the sit down mower all over the place. 

I can see the happy house vibe in the pets. Ella the cat has gone from being a true scaredy cat – hiding at the slightest noise and not allowing anyone to hold her for long – to being the happiest, calmest, most cuddly little furball around. She purrs her way all over the place and is usually happily flopped in a sunbeam right in the middle of the house. 

Dottie actually smiles. If you didn’t know that a dog could smile then you need to see my Dotted Dog. She has gone from a contained, leashed life, to one of freedom. She runs around my yard, she runs out into the field. She runs behind the barn. She’s like Forrest Gump, she started running and she hasn’t stopped. Often when she’s running about she tears up to me and gives me a hige grin before taking off a full speed again. To me, she represents the freedom we have all found  since returning home. 

Today we had a massive thunder storm – the kind where the entire house was dark and the windows shook. After it was over, Dottie ran outside for a while. When she came  back in she was covered in mud, had the biggest happy grin on her face, and dropped a horse hoof (the trimmed part – farriers must have been here) at my feet, and danced around. Once I got over the gahhhhh so much mud to clean up moment I took in her happiness and realized that was my happiness moment for the day. It embodies everything good about being here. Freedom and fun. 

Standard
Uncategorized

Unanswered Questions

I suppose from now until the end of my time on Earth I will have unanswered questions. But they seem to be popping up more and more in the last three weeks. I can’t believe it’s been almost three weeks since Dad died. It feels like forever, and yet I still can’t believe most of the time that it’s actually happened. Often I’m walking along like life is normal and then I get this weird feeling that something is dreadfully wrong, and then it hits me in the gut (or heart) that something is in fact dreadfully wrong.

Lately on top of those terrible gut (heart) feelings are the number of unanswered questions that are starting to pile up. Things I wish I’d asked Dad, things I wish I’d listened more closely to when he talked to me. I so wish there was a phone line to the other side so I could ask him the things I need to know. Little things like what kind of flower is that again? and big things like what is heaven like, are you happy there? Accepting that these are conversations I will never have with him is a difficult thing to do.

Already so many things have happened and I have thought I can’t wait to tell Dad about this and then I realize…. I can’t. Countless times Dad and I have headed out for a walk along the ridge and shared our spiritual journeys with each other. It seems impossible to me that I can’t have any more of those walks. Although…. I can still feel it when I go out for my own walks. It’s not the same, but I can still feel it.

I wish I had paid more attention to what he had to say. I tried to, but it seems that so many things have been forgotten. Even near the end, somehow I thought I would have more time. And now, I’m left with these unanswered questions.

Happiness moment: after spending a couple of hours driving around town doing errands the kids and I ended up being hangry so we went out for supper. It  was beautiful out so  we sat on outside and played rock, paper, scissors and played eye spy. Life happens in these little moments and I find most of my true happiness comes during these times. I am so thankful I have these truly fun little people to hang out with and I am even more thankful that they like hanging out with me. 

Standard