A blog about my adventures as a grief warrior

Month: August 2020

Don’t Change the Dishes

Recently my husband bought a brand new set of dinnerware.  And I lost it on him. Flipped out, shouting what the hell do we need another set for?  Why would you do this? Typical, just go out and buy stuff we don’t need.  The truth is we did need another set.  Our current dishware, although in relatively good shape was old and we were down to 3 plates.  So why the inappropriate melt down? 

I came to realize it wasn’t about the dishes at all.  It was about change. Whether you like change or not, and I don’t, when you’re grieving, change of any kind can be unsettling.

Every little change screams at me that things are not like they were before.  Things are different. Zane is missing.  Time is moving on without him here to experience new things with me.  It isn’t the dishes.  It’s another change in my life.  The dishes were a reminder of all the meals I served him on the old plates…that he will not have on the new plates….  It’s these types of changes that taunt me and pull at my grief bringing it to new levels of pain. My rant towards my poor husband demonstrated that change can bring on ugly grief spurts.  This is the complexity of grief. 

I have accepted the new dishes.  I took the old ones out of the cupboard and took a picture of them.  I then carefully wrapped them in tissue and boxed them to give away.  Someone else can enjoy these dishes that my kids and I chose for our family years before.  I washed and put the new dishes into the cupboard. They are beautiful; I am happy they look like a set my mom had before she left.  I rationalize change by connecting it to something that I enjoyed in the past.  It helps soften the fact it is still a change.

Grief 101: Beliefs are not made of Stone

I’m not sure what your beliefs are.  I do know that when great loss is experienced, whatever your beliefs are comes into question.  I always believed there is a reason for everything.  I believed in a higher power to which I prayed to daily and raised my children to believe you must ‘trust the plan’.  And then 2018 arrived and I can’t believe there is any sort of magical plan to justify what has happened. 

So when my girlfriend dropped off several books on stories shared by various popular mediums, I placed the pile on my shelf and pondered is this for me?   I believed in angels.  I believed in after life and perhaps that made it easier to think there are spirits able to visit us.  Or maybe it is just a sheer desire to connect with Zane again. When you are grieving, all you have is hope that your loved one is nearby still.   And I believe in love, God, vibration energy…things I can’t see or explain so it wasn’t a far stretch for me to believe in the spirit world.

The first book from this pile was “Unfinished Business” by James Van Praagh, a world-famous medium with over 25 years experience speaking to the other side.

This book was about those who no longer live on earth, what they can teach us about life. It contains many stories of readings he has given and how loved ones from across the veil have brought powerful and healing messages.

Some chapters resonated with me, others gave me hope.  One chapter (on karma) scared the crap out of me.  Overall a great read containing lessons that all of us can practice while we are here on earth.

Every belief I had, I have now questioned. Some beliefs I have a new understanding with. Others, the jury is still out. And my grief has given me new beliefs, among them that anything is possible.

A Birthday Gift from Zane

August 13th gathered dozens of friends in our back yard for a BBQ and a toast to Zane. It should have been his 29th birthday.  “Good food, good drink, good company”.  Zane’s 3 key ingredients to happiness.  We honor him by including these things in every celebration.

Earlier this year I had ordered a memory bead.  I wanted a custom designed pendant that represented the calming nature of our favorite areas. I gave full artistic leverage to Laurel.  I trusted her to work with my son’s spirit to create a piece that would bring me comfort. 

The night before Zane’s birthday, Laurel called me.  She asked; “where will you be tomorrow, I need to see you”.  I told her I’d be home.  She came over that afternoon with a small box and a story that gave me goose bumps. She had not been feeling well and had laid down for a nap.  She had this sudden pull, a calling to get up and get working.  She went into her studio and pulled out some glass and the little bag of Zane’s ashes and had in her mind an idea for my pendant.  What she thought and what ended up the piece she put in the kiln were two very different pieces.  She felt guided by something to do this piece.  Could it be Zane?  She had never experienced this before.

She told me, as I opened the box, that she felt so strongly that she had to get this to me today, the 13th.  “It is a gift for my mama”, she heard. Inside the box was a glass pendant.  Half of the pendant was cream and beige colored glass, like a river edge. The other half was ice blue with bubbles and swirls and inside a streak in the shape of a feather.  It has 3 green, tiny fir trees, symbolic of me and my two babies. It is perfect. It is our happy place captured and threaded onto a silver chain that hangs just over my heart.

Laurel did not know it was Zane’s birthday. She never experienced artistic channeling before and she said that it was a bit unsettling, but really cool.  She said I have a son whose spirit is loud and engaging and knows what he wants.  He directed the whole thing.

I laughed, seems death has not changed his personality.

Resolutions for Good Mourning

The New Year or birthdays are the popular times to reflect and set new goals.  When the kids were young I was told September was a good month to set goals for moms.  It’s back to school, summer rest behind and the pace quickens; fall was a good time to set new plans, hopes and goals for the family.

For those of us grieving, I think D-Day, the ‘anniversary’ of your loved ones departure, is a good time to set new resolutions.  We are different now. Our plans for the future forever eliminated or changed. Goals are around surviving, remembering, battling grief and figuring out how to live with this pain for the rest of our lives. Resolutions can bring hope and action to what you need to battle your grief. I believe some resolutions are made unconsciously; our very first one was “you will always be remembered”.

This week marked 2 years since Zane was killed.  I spent the week reflecting.  What have I done over the last two years to mourn?  What have I done to honor my son? The past is blurry from grief so I sat to make a list:

I went to grief counselling, took a photography course and a blogging course.  I am learning as I grow.

I write letters to Zane, write poetry and journal.  I bought ‘the dude’-that’s another story.

I got a tattoo.  His printed words forever inked into my forearm bring me comfort.

I honored my son by advocating for his degree so that it is recorded he graduated from University (he was two courses shy of getting it).  I paid off his beloved car (well insurance did, but that’s just a detail).  I started a therapeutic photography project and a bursary in his name.

We host a BBQ on his birthday that provides a forum for his friends to come over and eat, drink and share stories of their adventures together. 

As I reflect it appears there is a close link between honoring your loved one and mourning.  When we honor those who are no longer physically here, it is an expression of our love for them.  It enables their existence to continue.  Yes, in a different way, but honoring them gives new memories of how they are a part of your life.  Still. 

These types of action are defined as mourning; an eternal expression of your grief. So honoring your loved ones is mourning. Take a moment to reflect and add to your resolutions, whenever you make them, how you will practice good mourning.

D-Day is here

August long weekend is the weekend that calls and cards and well wishers let us know that we are being thought of.  “This is a tough weekend.  We are thinking of you.” I appreciate their acknowledgement of our struggle. 

In our family we call it D-Day.  My daughter chose this word for us.  Anniversary is something that should be happy.  Angelversary was suggested and she indicated none of us will be celebrating that. She wants her brother here, not some invisible Angel. Nope, she said we will call this day D-Day, short for Death Day.  It is accurate, it is blunt, raw and it does not celebrate he is somewhere else.  It simply marks the day to which Zane was ripped out of our lives.

This D-Day marks 2 years. I have no idea how I got here. The pain of missing my son was more intense this last year.  I’m not sure if it is that the shock has worn off or that people expect you to be better.  The first year you spend in fear of how do you get through each holiday, special occasion, ordinary days. But you do.  There is support for you; friends, family, grief counsellor…it’s like the first experiences without your loved are unfathomable but if you can get through ‘the first year’,   you will be ok.

Then the second year comes along and screams at you;

“This is now your life.  Every holiday, every special occasion, every day there will be grief.”  

More strength is required. More anger is felt. The heartache continues to dig deep into your soul.  It is not ok.  Not even a little bit. It is a battle, and you fight to get through each day. And you do.

Maybe this is why, as friends stop by to check in, I smile. Their thought that D-Day is the most difficult day for us illustrates the innocence, the blessing they have to not know or understand the life we have now.  

D-Day will come and go. And I will begin my third term as a grief warrior.

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