A blog about my adventures as a grief warrior

Month: April 2025

Why Her Thirty Is So Strange

April is always a busy month for our family.  We commemorate fourteen birthdays of those we love. But this year, on top of birthdays, life has been crammed full of family visits, family drama, health concerns, new homes, job losses, new jobs, moves and my daughter turns thirty.

We joke that her entering this new decade will be a year-long celebration starting this weekend and carrying on throughout the year which includes a trip to Iceland and Ireland. And yet, our little drama queen has decided that this year is to be a quiet start. She has a desire to re-energize. She wishes to bring this birthday in, not with the typical “I’m getting old” fanfare, but rather a relaxed celebration of all that she is truly grateful for.

When planning what her 30th would be like, she said, “I am not going to complain I am getting older, I am not going to joke that my youth is dead. Zane did not see this birthday. I get how lucky I am.” And that hit me. And I can’t shake it. She is right, and her upcoming celebration of the day she was born, and the number of years that the Universe has graced her are not taken for granted.

Payton, as a little girl, was a tomboy. She admired her brother, had crushes on many of his friends and grew up knowing that she was never alone. Zane was her big brother, her cheerleader, her advisor and they relished the times together. Zane’s empath qualities guided her to become a beacon for many. Payton was and still is the advocate for the underdog and the hero for anyone in despair. Her adventures have shaped her, her styles have changed, and her heart continues to grow. She will always be my little girl. She is forever Zane’s little sister.

And I think that is why this birthday is different. I remember when I went into a new decade without Zane on earth.  The hollowness in my heart grew deeper. The ache of continuing without him seemed louder. I think, without her knowing this, my daughter is experiencing the same. It is so hard to move forward with the realization that life was physically shared with Zane ‘last decade’. Her soul knows this before her brain does. I am sure it is the subconscious reason for a birthday with no fireworks.

As her mother, I am in awe of her, of the strength she shows with all the tragedy our family has experienced and continues to receive. She carries the grief of loss of so many family members who sustained her throughout her childhood. Especially that of her brother. She has sat at the funerals of many family members and friends and has spoken tributes on their behalf. She continues to make room to honor each of them. All before she turned thirty.

There is nothing that can be said about this. It is life. My heart screams that I cannot change this, I cannot comfort her. My belief is that it is part of her soul plan. And how beautiful her soul, that it can hold the light for so many when the darkness has come to her so often.

My sweet daughter, my wish for you is that you will never forget that the heavens are filled with loved ones who watch over you, shower you with strength and hold you safe. And that the person at the forefront is always your brother.

The Spirit of Spring

Spring, where grass will become new & green

The signs from our loved ones will be seen

In butterflies, dragonflies & nature’s delight

Of morning suns & stars at night.

Spring brings with it a message of hope,

Bright colors & chocolate to help us cope.

The scavenger hunts of years reminisced

Bunnies & petting zoos we never missed.

Tables set with favorite culinary dishes,

Family & friends gather with springtime wishes

And bubbles will blow into the air

To let you know,

We know you’re there.

We gather, we laugh, we toast & cheer

For the warmth of company, afar & near

I enjoy this time, as the truth is told

Spring is the spirit of grief on hold.

A Hug from The Mountains

When my daughter and I planned our weekend away so close to our birthdays, we decided to make it into a birthday celebration.  Just the two of us. A trip to enjoy the mountains, to shop, try a new restaurant or two and to rest. Both of us have been going at full speed and we needed this time to rejuvenate.  I couldn’t wait. 

We left for our weekend on the 11th, the date of the day that my father passed away.  That was thirty years ago. There is something surreal about that. He had passed just before Payton was born. I spoke at his funeral. And went on to lose my Godfather the next week, my own birthday the following, and then gave birth to his first (and only) granddaughter. We toasted to my dad on our sunny patio, facing the mountains, with a chardonnay. A fitting start to a spiritual weekend.

The weather graced us with a full moon and then lots of snow. The first night I woke at my usual 3 a.m. from the brightness of the moon shining into my room. It is the ‘pink moon’ and symbolizes the importance of renewal, hope, balance and growth. Fitting to be in my magical place to feel this. I heard Zane’s voice, “get your camera, mama, don’t miss this.” And so, I spent the first night snapping pictures with the spirit of my boy.

The next day, the snow arrived.  It was a bit surprising, since the previous forecasts were sunny and warm. We adjusted, took out the umbrellas and headed out. A magical day started with mimosas, then shopping, a shared lunch, more shopping and dinner. The conversations melted away the hours. Not that my daughter and I have ever had a shortage of topics to speak of, but this day, included the sharing of past encounters that may or may not have helped shape us into who we are now, sitting in front of one another.

It makes sense that our past shapes our future. What our relatives went through, their stresses become part of our own make-up. We reminisced about our own family history and how this may have made an impression on her pre-birth. And how it included that each of us were forced onto this shaky path after Zane was killed to handle unbelievable grief.

We shared the discussions we have had with others who lost a child or siblings and the unspoken responsibility of supporting those who follow our own fate. We talked about tips, quotes, and antidotes to the incredible pain we live with. And as we chatted, I was reminded of the strength within my daughter, for others. Her desire to shelter those from the pain that was bestowed upon her. I heard her testimony of how tired she is and yet, the need to stay strong fuels her to go on. And I went to bed with a heavy heart. This is her life. I cannot change this. Ever. For either of us.

When someone you truly love is taken away, you change. You become a person who must survive.  How you do that becomes a unique journey. But each grief warrior finds a way to face the questions to which there are no answers. Each finds a way to travel a path of eternal heartbreak. Each finds a way to stand and keep upright. And, most importantly, each of us finds a way to re-open our hearts to those in our life and those who join us through their own personal loss.

This trip, Canmore reminded me of its deeper side. The power of the mountains. The solid, breathtaking, can’t be shaken rock solid symbols of how we can stay calm and carry on. The area that became my salvation, my son’s happy place, my husband’s playground. And this weekend, I saw, has become my daughter’s guiding light.

Towards A Home Sweet Home

One of Zane’s close friends, who calls me “Ma”, has been a part of our family for over twenty years. A self-proclaimed orphan, he spent a lot of time at our home because of the dysfunction of his own home. I watched this brave young soul rise above every challenge when most would have thrown in the towel.  I have had the honor of cheering him on over the decades and am quite proud of our bonus kid. I have said forever that he needs a place to call his own to really heal. Last week I received an invite to view a house with him. He was finally ready to buy.

This experience was a deja-vu for me to the time where my son-in-law invited me to help pick out his wedding suit. Both experiences were ones I had planned to experience with Zane. Instead, I find myself living vicariously through his friends. The house hunting triggered memories of Zane and I planning his first home and all that it would be. It had to be near nature, it had to have a great kitchen, it had to be accessible to his friends and family and it had to have a vibe that brought him peace. The plan was he would graduate, travel, then move into a home of his own.

As I walked through the first place we looked at, it felt odd. It was more like a family abode, rather than a bachelor pad. I had promised myself not to have an opinion but rather be another set of eyes, so I walked through with him watching his reaction and sensing his energy. He didn’t like the place either.

The second home we stepped into had a calmness about it. It had a magnificent kitchen and a modern feel with a backyard backing onto a pathway, lots of trees, large (new) windows that lit up every room. And each light switch had a dimmer on it; a bonus he giggled about. I knew this was the one. I kept quiet until he said, “I’m thinking I really like this…” and I squealed with joy.

Later that night, I received a text that he was putting an offer in. I crossed my fingers. The next text said, “I GOT IT”. I hit dial, and we cried and laughed over the phone at his dream coming true. When I hung up, I continued crying for the loss that Zane did not have the same ability to purchase his own place. Fate had other plans, but they did include the ability for me to be a part of finding the perfect place for one of his best friends. Gratitude can be found in bittersweet moments.

The night ended with one last text. A photo of my bonus kid’s celebratory drink. He likes scotch. And the ice rock in the glass was one I had given out at a birthday party for Zane. The word wobupa etched into it. A favorite word of Zane’s meaning “I am not afraid”. I texted a reply, “you have a buddy looking over you”.   And I have a strong sense my son will be visiting his friend in his new place of peace and joy.

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