Author: Mama Fish (Page 11 of 26)

A Tree Sent to Heaven

May 21, 2023 / Mama Fish

Every Albertan remembers the grade one tradition where your child is given a sapling to take home and plant. Both my children received one. Both planted their little tree in a chosen place in our yard. My daughter cared for her tree for a limited amount of time, moving on to her next project and the tree perished.

Zane was different. He would come home each day and nurture his tree. He covered it with a large coffee tin so the heavy snows would not break it. He talked to it, sprayed it, and fertilized it and it grew into a majestic white spruce that we hung feeders and tiny houses on to welcome the birds and squirrels. After Zane passed, we hung Christmas ornaments and tied ribbons with wishes on it in his honor. The tree was more than a tree; it was a connection to the love my son had and shared.

At a recent community block party, our old neighbor told us of how the new owners were caring for our house in a way that we would feel good about. He went on to say how they had opened the yard by removing a few of the trees and it looked great. “Which ones?”, I asked. As he began to describe the locations of the trees they had removed, I kept pleading in my head, “not Zane’s, not Zane’s” …but it was Zane’s. I glanced at my husband as the tears came and whispered to him, “I just can’t…” and I turned and left, leaving him to tell our neighbor why his wife was a sudden mess.

Our neighbor apologized and hugged me. How was he to know. It was ok. But it wasn’t. I went home that evening and cried myself to sleep. There is nothing I could have done, there was no moving this massive evergreen. The house was not ours any longer. I understand. But I don’t like it. How ironic this tree was roughly Zane’s age before its life was chopped down. It was another thing lost that was my sons. It was another reminder that things have changed forever. It was another catalyst to bringing my grief to the forefront.

When things like this happen, we need to find hope that it will be ok. Even when we know it isn’t. We can look at loss from the dark or the light side. I tend to look at it from the dark first. I give myself time to sit with the pain, permission to feel mad and sad and hopeless. And then when my tears have subsided, I look at it from the light side. And if there isn’t one, I try to create one.

With Zane’s tree, I have decided to believe that somewhere on the other realm, Zane has a space that he adores and that he rejuvenates in, and that spot now has his beautiful beloved tree. Beside him. With all the wishes we had tied on it and all the admiration we have for him clinging to each needle so that he can see, touch, and feel how very much he is loved and missed.

Motherhood is a Life Sentence

May 14, 2023 / Mama Fish

Last week was Bereaved Mother’s Day. A day for mothers who have lost a child. Today is Mother’s Day. A day to celebrate mothers. It confuses me as to why I am suddenly a part of two different occasions that are about one person. I struggle with the idea that I celebrate being Zane’s mom on one day and my daughter on another day. Just because he is not here physically, in no way reduces all aspects of me being his mom. And where is the day to celebrate my role as a mom to the many other children that I also love unconditionally? Where is ‘their day’?

Although I enjoy any reason for a party, Mother’s Day is getting more and more complicated with the definition of mother and what type of mother are you and each type seems to have its own day. Are you a mother or a bereaved mother or a stepmother or a foster mother? There is a flurry of diverse Mother’s Days in a calendar year. And then there are the protestors that think there shouldn’t be a Mother’s Day at all!

I don’t think you need to give birth to be a mother. I think being a mother is more about unconditional love. And that type of love can nurture any thing or anyone. I think the role of mother is about devotion, about care, about wanting the best. It’s about sacrifice and sleepless nights and an ongoing worry for them. Motherhood is not a role; it is a way of life.

Motherliness begins at a young age, long before the official call of ‘mom’. It begins as a small girl developing empathy and a curiosity of how one can nurture another. It may have begun playing dolls or taking care of a plant, a pet, or a sibling. It is fostered by a growth of patience and concern and strengthens with a desire to protect. All this creates a heart of joy and a mama bear attitude for those we care for.

And suddenly you are all grown up. And through personal experience your life becomes that of a mom. It is important to acknowledge the unique differences and challenges of the different types of motherhood. Some moms hold a baby they gave birth to. Some care for one that another woman gave birth to. Other’s play a role of mom to a child of a friend or relative. And some moms have four-legged fur babies they love as much. There are unique aspects and different details to who and how you are in the role of being that soul’s mom. What I think is important is the overall concept of motherhood, the conscious interactions with another living being (human or other) that causes a stirring in your soul, a tug at your heart, a desire to ensure this soul is ok. This makes you a mother. I like to think it is just that simple. It is a gift that does not come with a training guide but with an obligation to be our best for them. For the rest of our lives.

With all the complex intricacies of motherhood, I don’t need two or more days to acknowledge this responsibility and my part in it. I receive confirmation every day. A collective and special holiday for moms is great but I don’t need two. One day is just fine.

A Coliseum of Grief

May 7, 2023 / Mama Fish

My husband took me to see Matt Fraser live in Edmonton. It was a one-night stay that started at the picturesque Fairmont McDonald, where we sat in the afternoon sun with friends, drinking and sharing appetizers. A lovely few hours enjoying each other’s company and celebrating my birthday. I shared with them my excitement to see my favourite psychic.

The casino where Matt’s show was at was filled with hockey fans, casino players and people like me, hopeful to have a visit from a loved one from the other side. We enjoyed a drink before the show and met two women, who kindly shared their table. They were also excited to see Matt and told us the story of their aunt who had departed. They asked who we wanted to see. I said my son. As they left, one woman said to me, “I hope you see your son”. And it hit me. We were all there for the very same reason.

The show was sold out, as were the previous two nights. The concept that thousands had paid money to sit together and potentially share their loss with hundreds of strangers was magical. Each person attending was wishing for a visit, reassurance that their loved one was ok, that they were still here. Every single person had the same request. Every single person was in pain. Every single person came with hope. And the need to have Zane visit through Matt diminished. The comraderies of my fellow grief warriors were comfort enough. The understanding that the Universe was in control that night filled me with a peace that enabled me to “sit back and enjoy the show.” And that is what I did.

Matt did not disappoint. His readings were accurate, and the messages eased the receiver’s anguish. We laughed and cried together. There was a communal ‘oh no’ when Matt approached a woman whose boyfriend had been murdered and her baby died just after. The heart ache of loss was collectively felt. The readings were individual but the main theme that the deceased are here, watching over us, was a reassuring message for everyone.

It was a slow exit because of the vast amount of people. As we shuffled forward, a couple asked us how we enjoyed the show. He said he was not a believer and that his wife had dragged him to it. I asked who it was that they had lost. It was their daughter. 8 months ago. She was 29. The mother started to weep. I stopped and hugged her. “I am so sorry for your loss”. He asked who we lost. We told him. And a hush fell upon us as we continued to walk, holding each other up.

This event did have a personal message for each attendee. Perhaps not from their loved one directly, but from the aura of the hundreds of souls surrounding us. A sense of belonging, a whisper to look at the strength of each person there who lives with their eternal grief but who refuses to diminish the value their loved one had and still has in their life. The desire for connection. The innate ability to carry on. We were a part of that. Zane was there with the other souls. The invisible electricity of so many together in the same room from both sides of the veil was an experience I had dreamed of. We were a part of a coliseum of shared grief. And of love.

What is Your Soul Plan?

April 30, 2023 / Mama Fish

I shared with a group of friends my newer belief that we each have a soul plan that is agreed to before we are born. I’m not sure if it is God’s plan or fate or the Universe calling. Whatever you want to label it, there is a conversation we have with those we spend this life with that gives us somewhat of a predetermined plan as to which role we have and how we play that. I told my friends that I must believe this. If I did not believe that somehow, I had agreed to this prior and knew this was to be my life and then, also knew all was going to be ok in the end, I’d go utterly mad. This belief keeps me from jumping off the proverbial cliff.

Robert Schwartz’s book “Your Soul’s Plan” is all about this belief. He calls it pre-birth planning. I was excited to read what this man had to say. He offers Spiritual Guidance Sessions and Past Life Soul Regressions to help people understand their life plan. It was interesting. And almost far-fetched, even for me.

Robert shares with the reader, actual cases of people who have been interviewed by himself, mediums, and channels. Each sharing centers around a particular challenge or hardship that the interviewee has battled during their life. Cases included drug addiction, abuse, disabilities, and AIDS. Each of these people interviewed, discovers the why they chose this life and the lessons that came from these choices. I could accept the mediums speaking on behalf of their loved ones, helping explain their soul plan, but the channels spoke to the person’s soul and that I know little of. That is the part of the book that I had difficulty accepting. How can a human being, speak to the soul of another human being? I am not saying it can’t happen. In fact, Robert’s work and his findings suggests it is so.

The people that he interviewed, through the process he shares in his book, sought, and found healing by understanding the why they signed up for tragedy. “When we realize it’s not personal and that it’s something we’ve chosen, then it changes our perspective.”

There were points that made me ponder or compare their struggle to my own. The interesting angle of how our life lessons are designed to bring us to the core of our true essence intrigued me the most. We are all spiritual energy of light and love, but each life carries with it a search for something missing not yet achieved, like self-respect or empathy or boundaries. Hmmmm….

The point Robert was making through this book is that we do have a soul plan. And that we have a collection of souls that have agreed to support us in our journey on earth. We are all in this together; connected to help one another become our genuine and loving selves. If we slow down to notice the lessons, we receive through our struggles, we can discover our true purpose. That is my favorite take away from this book.

How do we get there? How do we begin to see others as helpers in our lives and accept our struggles as experiences we had asked for. Kindness to ourselves and to others, helps enlighten the search for life’s meaning. On Zane’s urn we have inscribed the quote he shared wit his father during their last conversation.

“Kindness begins with the understanding that we all struggle”.

The essence, the foundation of our soul plan is that. Kindness is the main ingredient of love. If we remind ourselves that we all struggle, only then can we be able to help each other. And with that, together, we all achieve our soul plan.

Moving Into The 60’s

April 23, 2023 / Mama Fish

My 50’s brought with them the promise of becoming more of my own. The children were older, the husband was working at a job he enjoyed, and I was discovering that I belonged on the totem pole; self-care was not an option but rather a healthy lifestyle for me. It came with a celebration, Hawaii style and 50 different bottles of wine to enjoy. It came with the desire to travel and see family more often and to hang out with friends. It came with the expectation that I was at a point where I could enjoy life more. It delivered some of that. But the things that my attention focused on were none of those gifts. My 50’s became a battlefield.

Of course, there were happy times and cause for celebration. Yet, my vivid memories of this era are a myriad of health issues, big struggles, major changes that I did not want or ask for and left me in the middle coping with the loss of my son. It ended with the loss of more family and friends. It ended with me battling breast cancer. My 50’s became very dark for me.

As I approached this golden year, I was told by someone special that I have created a culture of a bleak, whoa-is-me, an attitude that is anything but fun and bright as I am described to be. Ouch. And yet, so very true. I wake with the desire to enjoy my life, but go to bed totally frustrated and exhausted, and I repeat this every day like a bad Groundhog Day movie vibe.

So how do I greet 60? How do I expect anything different or better? We are all getting older. Health challenges will be a sure thing. I am going into a new year, a new decade, without Zane’s physical being. I am only sure of one thing; I don’t want a repeat of my 50’s. I need an attitude adjustment. And where are those for sale?

Agreed that change is my only salvation, I started my 60^th morning in Canmore, running into my sister’s room, jumping on her bed, and yelling like an excited 6-year-old, “It’s my birthday!” I then poured coffee and indulged in a second cup with extra cream. I texted my husband to say, “you pick the place to celebrate my birthday dinner at. Here are my choices. Surprise me!” Then, after my sister left, I did a little work, closed the books, and poured myself a glass of wine, enjoying the silence and listening to the magic of the mountains, alongside my son’s spirit.

The evening was splendid. Hubby, daughter, and dog came to join me, and the restaurant Jon chose exceeded our expectations. Day one, done and it was blissful. I know each new day will not be as peaceful or as happy as this day was. However, I consciously brought into the day things I enjoy and tried not to control every detail. This combo delivered a day of gratitude.

I am going to bring this practice into my new year. I am going to insist on a better balance of work and play and solitude. I am going to spend more time with those I love in environments that suit me; planning events that are fun for me. Maybe, if we fill our life with things we can look forward to, perhaps they will balance the inevitable things we don’t like. Next week I am off to Edmonton to see Matt Fraser, medium extraordinaire and just maybe Zane will be there! My 60’s are looking up!

The Technicalities of Death

April 16, 2023 / Mama Fish

If this year has taught me one thing, it is to get your estate in order. I have watched and experienced the drama of having last wishes incomplete and the bedside requests of those dying ignored by those who are grieving. I have also experienced firsthand how difficult it is to honor those wishes and expectations when the dying have left their desires to chance by not having all the details clearly outlined.

I was enjoying a wine with a girlfriend and sharing the troubles and minor details that we are experiencing in helping execute our friends last wishes. I asked her who was the executor of her will. It is her sons. With us, we wish our daughter to be. And so, I shared with her what I am learning that needs to be put into place to make certain that if your child is grieving the loss of their parent, the role of executor does not become a daunting task that can complicate their grieving process. Let’s spare them that.

If you have had a previous marriage, keep a record of when you were married, when your divorce was finalized and the names, birthdays, and place of birth for each child you had within that marriage. I knew my friends had previous spouses…did I ever care when they were married and divorced? Why would I? But now, I must know to proceed with the completing of their will.

What are the credit cards, and the amount owing. None of my business! Oh, but it is. Each credit card must be submitted with a final balance. How many air miles did any of them have? Why, I thought. They don’t need air miles to fly about now, they have angel wings! What were any outstanding loans? What were their investments? Were they joint, what type of account was it? Who do you call to close these accounts? And what the heck are their passwords? Nothing opens, even the phone, without a password.

What about their home? What expenses need to stay in place while we prepare the house for sale on their behalf? Who pays that? Did you know that certain expenses are permitted to be paid through the estate but renovations to upgrade are not? Where do their belongings go and how do you decide when more than one claims it was to be theirs? How do you be fair to the living while honoring the trust that you have been given to do the right thing. We continue to learn.

These technicalities are part of death. They are the task list you delegate to someone to do on your behalf as part of your exit plan from this realm. I have come to realize that it is one of the most important things everyone, regardless of age, or health, needs to do to confirm that their wishes will be carried out and with minimum stress to the person with the task of doing such.

Thank God our friends had shared most of the needed information with us before they left. Even with that, we have had a few surprises and some detective work still to do. I said to my husband, “can you imagine our daughter having to figure this out during the bleakest time of her life?” The sheer thought of putting that responsibility on her has me screaming.

This has encouraged me to update our wills and attach a list of things she will need to know. And I have made her a promise that I will update it yearly so that if she needs to execute my last wishes, she will have all the answers. And I will have it so ironclad tight that there will be no room for misunderstandings. This might be my biggest gift to her. And I hope I don’t have to give it to her for decades.

The Message of Easter Spring

April 9, 2023 / Mama Fish

It was Easter that both my Godfather and father died. The next Easter weekend we bought the kids a lop-eared dwarf bunny. Zane said, “we should call him Sensei.” I said, “well, let’s see if he likes that name” to which Zane replied, “why wouldn’t he?” So, Sensei bunny became a member of our family for 9 years. The Easter season seems to bring to our family entrances and exits.

Dear Zane:

Remember how much you enjoyed Easter? Do you remember how excited you were each Easter to find the hidden chocolate and presents? Payton still does this, every year. Roydon now hides eggs all over their condo. He does a great job. They have enough candy to last them the year! I do my own version of a scavenger hunt for her. I remember you telling me that you were done with Easter egg hunts but let’s pretend you aren’t because Payton likes them still. Always the big brother.

The Easter after you left, you visited me in a dream. You told me Easter brings with it a magic. I must pay attention to this season. It has meaning. And each year I have thought of that, waiting for something to occur that would make sense. I might have missed things in the past, but this year, the meaning shouted at me.

As you know we lost two more of our tribe this season. The grief has drained each of us and our plans to soldier on were cancelled by Universal influence to slow down and just huddle together this year. And this has brought an awareness, I know now what you meant. This is what you came to tell me in my early grief. Your message, a reminder of the meaning of Easter. The message that gives us faith and hope and strength. The message you knew I needed. And still do. The meaning of Easter is simply, those we love do not die.

Easter brings with it the guarantee of warmer days. You were joyous about this as it meant to you that patio drinking season was nearby. The Easter season brings with it all the magic of rebirth, all the signs that life goes on. All the sights of energy revitalizing. This is perhaps why you loved spring on a spiritual level. It truly is a special time of the year whatever your religious beliefs are. Boiled down, Easter is the promise that life carries on. Thanks for the message.

Sweet Travels My Dear Romeo & Juliet

April 2, 2023 / Mama Fish

I must get past the pain to tell this story. I must get past the everyday business that stole from the last moments. I must get past the selfishness of dealing with the plans and expectations of others. I must get past all this to get to the center of the reality. Of the importance of what just happened. The story of Romeo & Juliet in 2023.

Theirs was the true taboo story. First cousins that fell in love and knew they could never be, so continued with their lives as relatives…marrying others, leading their own lives and yet somehow, each knowing, that the universe knew better. They were to be together. And how could that be? So, after two failed marriages for one and one failed marriage for the other, they reunited, were married in San Francisco and the rest is history. They lived happily ever after for 42 years. Until age and poor health brought them to the decision to leave this realm together.

Juliet loved her man. She agreed to leave because he suggested it and her health was not good either. More importantly, he was her first love and her only true love. She had a strong will and a desire to create adventures for the two of them. She provided him with a life of beauty and friends and trips captured in photos that filled many boxes for us. She was always to be with him. Death would not change this.

Romeo was in love with her. He had children but she was his queen, and he spent his life trying to balance fatherhood and husband hood. He was a gentle man, a kind man, a giving man. He cared for his Juliet with a passion and dedication that some could not understand. He showered her with cards and roses and jewelry. When I met them, they instantly became family. They were a couple of sweeties who we enjoyed many special moments with over martinis and wine.

Their decision to leave this earth caused family and friends some emotional pain. It was the love for them that had us all agree it was the best decision for them. And so began the many tasks of preparing for this day. The family, each dealing with anticipatory guilt, each holding a combination of past, present, and future needs, wants and fears, which raised voices and misunderstandings; including the questions of who loved who best and what is the definition of family and who deserves what. All things that had me spiralling spiritually as to how does this even matter with the action at hand. Our friends are about to die.

That is the problem of knowing the due date of death. We are aware, we don’t like it and we often try to control it or tweak the details to suit us. It gets murky as to what is best for your loved ones and what you might think is best. Opinions become facts and conversations are twisted. At a time where we should be closer and celebrating the lives of those we are about to lose, instead we become angry. What I discovered was that grief becomes even more complicated by unresolved past issues.

At the end of the day, not much could be fixed. We took Juliet to lunch for martinis. Romeo stayed home with the children. It seemed apparent that there were two families, not one saying goodbye. The ugly and sad side of any complicated love story. Where family caught up with their own expectations becomes blinded to the love that is of Romeo & Juliet.

We brought both to their bedroom to prepare for their departure. They had only, at the end of the day, a few moments alone because of the many friends and family rushing in to say their last goodbyes. I said to my husband, “what do you think were the last words they said to each other in that short of time?” What do you say to the man you love to the depth of your soul? And Romeo, what do you say to the woman who has given you her entire life and her afterlife? What possible words can be said to answer that question? Are there any?

Lying together, family at each side, Romeo and Juliet were injected with the medical drip to release them from this realm. I had placed a heart shaped stone of selenite to offer them a peaceful trip to eternity. They laid there, holding hands, falling into their transitional sleep. I heard Romeo say, with a smile on his face, “I love you sweetie” and he passed. She spoke of family and how they were with her and passed with a contented sigh. A surreal ending.

It was so quiet, so peaceful. There was no fight; it was total acceptance of the opportunity to move on. Romeo & Juliet, like their Shakespearean counterparts, had their trials and obstacles to overcome with those who opposed their love. They had their struggles to find balance amongst the defiance. They found strength in the knowledge that they are soulmates. They demonstrated love and loyalty and faithfulness to a degree experienced by few. They were not without their arguments, frustrations that come with a love that spanned across the decades, but in the end, they chose each other.

I hope that Juliet left with the comfort that her Romeo loved her first and foremost. And I hope that Romeo knew the love of his Juliet was immeasurable. He was always her only one.

It was about the two of them. They made it about the two of them, barring all else, it was about the two of them. And thus, they chose to leave this life together. Holding hands. Our very own modern-day Romeo & Juliet.

“Nightfall to Daybreak” by Sally Walls

March 26, 2023 / Mama Fish

In the first few days after Zane was killed, a friend dropped off a book for me to read, “Nightfall to Daybreak”. She said she knew the family and they too had lost a son. When I was ready, I should read the book. It was written by the mother, Sally Walls, who tells the story of how she was thrown into the grief community. I first opened it a few months after and quickly closed it and placed it in a box. It was unreadable. It was far too painful.

I found it when we moved to the condo and opened it up again. The crisp white pages and the large, typed font made it an easy read. The content was not as easy. Sally Walls writes about the love and loss of her 18-year-old son Davis. She writes of the anticipation of his birth and the joy of being his mother, watching him grow into a respectful young man and watching him graduate. She writes about the week after his graduation, when the police came to her door to let her know he was killed in a bicycle-vehicle fatality. She shares the anguish and despair of her journey with quotes, biblical verses, facts and beautiful comparisons of her grief to her reality.

Sally’s friend sent her a collection of beach glass. She writes, “Each broken piece has been smoothed over time by the journey it’s been on. I scoop them all into my hands and close my eyes. I run my fingers over them. I don’t hurry. There are no sharp edges. I sense that I will be able to handle the brokenness, given time. I will be able to pick up the pieces. We will put life back together again, like a mosaic.”

She writes of driving home with Davis as a small baby and avoiding a near fatal crash that sent her a clear message then. “You and your baby were spared tonight.” She tells the story of Davis sharing with her a beloved character, Leonidas, a leader possessing extreme courage in the face of death and wondering why he would share this just weeks before his death. Were these premonitions?

This book is not for the newly grieving. It is raw and real and hits your heart hard. Sally is one of us. Many of her thoughts and actions echo mine. By the end of the book, I felt a comradery with this woman I knew of but had never met. Inside the cover of my copy, my friend had her sign. Sally writes, “We are holding our hands around your brokenness.”

We are told that sharing our story, when we are able, is a responsibility. Share your story and you might help someone find their own. “Nightfall to Daybreak” is filled with supportive messages that one or more of them you can hold unto. Thank you, Sally.

For Laura

March 19, 2023 / Mama Fish

There were near 600 of us, gathered to say goodbye to Laura. We were not supposed to be here. She was only 34 years old. She was planning her wedding to the love of her life. She had a blossoming career she was passionate about. She wanted to be a mother. It was supposed to be a routine ‘tune up’ and she died on the operating table. Sudden death. We are all thrown into shock. Her father, a close friend of ours, asked my husband, “when will it seem real?” to which my husband replied, “Never”.

Her story is that of so many of our children. A life enthusiast that brought the sun into each room she entered. She made friends with everyone she met, evident by the number of young people crowding the hall. It reminded me of Zane’s celebration. His friends, dressed to honor him, holding each other in disbelief, tears, and toasts to their buddy. At Laura’s many of them wore Nike running shoes…her favorite. Even her father showed off a new pair, a whimsical contrast to the formal suit he wore.

I sat there listening quietly to the testimonies given and the promises to always remember her. I heard her fiancé question how he could go on without his soul mate. I heard her younger brother share that he loved her because she always ensured he “was seen”. His words cut me deepest. I envisioned Payton in his place just a few years earlier, bravely thanking Zane’s friends for being there for her on that day and asking them to be there for her forever. A promise they have kept.

Funerals are not about closure so much, but more the opening to facing grief. They are a forum for those in pain to gather and share their love for the one that has gone and find comfort together. We reminisce in our shock and the questions begin. How could this have happened. How will we go on. And the most important one, where have they gone.

I listened to these sweet young adults, pleading for a dream or a sign that she is somehow still here. I wanted to hug each one of them and reassure them that it is true. She has not left. She will show up in beautiful, magical signs that your heart will know is her. It might be a dime found, the sailboat emoji shared between her and her close friend, it might be a Nike ad or a rainbow reminding you of her favorite song. There will be signs. And they will speak to your soul directly.

I wanted to tell them that they now are responsible for the promises made that afternoon. They must keep saying her name. Celebrate her special days and bring into their own lives ways to honor her, celebrate her, continue her legacy. She was brave. She was fun in a mischievous way that made everyone laugh. Be that. For her.

This funeral was hard for me because it reminded me so much of Zane’s. She reminded me so much of Zane. The beauty of her human experience. The numerous lives she shaped, enriched. The agony that she had so many adventures still to enjoy. The senselessness of her death. But also came that afternoon, the quiet reminder that I have come to understand in my own journey; it is her body that we can no longer hold but that her spirit stays with us. My hope for our friend is that this understanding may come to be his one day.