Author: Mama Fish (Page 2 of 24)

A Chapter in Our Tapestry

September 1, 2024 / Mama Fish

When you live with grief, you are always looking for new and neat ways to honor your loved one. Recently, we were asked to send in a story about a friend who is dying. His wife is collecting them to make them into a beautiful keepsake book. The story can be an experience you had or a moment in time with them, something that illustrates their relationship to you. The idea is that when the stories are combined it will create a portrait of who this person was. It is a thoughtful, wonderful, creative idea. The challenge is what ONE story could possibly explain the entire lifetime of happiness this person brought. After all, how do you explain the brilliance of Geoff?

Tapestry is a funny word. But it accurately describes how Geoff fits into our life. He has always been there. We were introduced to Geoff as a four-month-old bouncy boy, whose mother came over to have coffee and meet Zane. His mother and I became fast friends, two women raising two adventurous boys.

They grew up together. Living across the street from one another, Geoff was a part of our daily life. The boys played together, catching grasshoppers in the field, counting how many glass bottles they could break before I caught them. They learned to ride bikes, play hockey, video games, and walked together to their first day of kindergarten. They were inseparable. They ran away together, got into trouble together (having fun in the discovery of how fast and furious dryer lint can burn!). They explored life fully with a gaggle of buddies included.

“You got a friend in me” is the philosophy of Geoff. Quietly teaching one how to tie their shoelace or drive a stick shift or face loss with honor. I learned from Geoff that it is ok to tell ‘skip the dishes’ to drop the food at the door and leave, because you don’t want to interact. I learned that a good shot of tequila can make things better. Although, he told me, “I am not a purist but that’s ok”, because I prefer chocolate tequila. And I learned from him that a hug says that I love you.

Geoff’s dark sense of humor makes it impossible to be mad and it generates energy where the entire room laughs. Even when facing cancer, he has that sense of wit. When he took me out for coffee to tell me he had a brain tumor, I asked what his fears about this diagnosis were. He said he didn’t want to lose his eyebrows.

Our families have shared the highs and lows of life together. And with each memory my heart laughs at the joy that Geoff has brought us. And I am forever grateful for the love that he has shared with us. How lucky we are to have him as part of our family’s tapestry.

Message In a Pot of Soup

August 25, 2024 / Mama Fish

Since the beginning of time, there has been an intuitive need to feed those in mourning. The day we were told Zane was killed, our house was flooded with family and friends who brought food and not just for us. No, for the first week, we had at least thirty people in and out and someone made it a priority to always have food available. I only recall this looking back. During that week I was in such shock that the single thing I remembered was that my son was gone.

Now looking back this is what I remember. The first day a friend was the one who started the food run by telling me that it was dinner, and we needed to feed everyone. I said I wasn’t hungry. She and my sister went to Safeway and brought back platters. After that, the casseroles started coming. Every dish was eaten. One dish I remembered was from a friend who was a chef of a local dining club. His chicken pot pie was large enough to feed the masses. The top crust of the pie he had artistically carved a design in the puff pastry. On the bottom of the topping was a rooster, a hen and a chick. At the top was another chick. This one had angel wings.

We had friends bring over chairs and tents and tables while we went to ‘identify the body’. We had friends bring cases of wine and pop. We had friends think of what we might need like toilet paper and brought those staples over. Nothing was left to be bought. Each morning a friend brought us a tea and my nephews wife brought a protein shake, knowing I was not eating. My nephew asked me where Tango’s food was. I forgot to feed the dog. Tango had a homemade menu, so my nephew bought the groceries and cooked his meals. Everyone was mourning but they rallied to ensure that our family was held up.

I suppose that is the subconscious idea behind bringing a dish. Food is the thing which sustains life. And when sickness, sadness or death arrives, bringing something to those suffering illustrates the compassion and support and strength you are offering them. It is why when a friend is sick or experiencing grief, of any kind, I have the urge to pull out the soup pot, chop the vegetables and drop off a jar and a loaf of bread for them. It is my debt for all that was given to us during that time six years ago.

And there is something therapeutic about making a dish for a loved one. It is mindful to think about them as you chop and slice. Sprinkled with sage, thyme or another spice, it is also sprinkled with love. Quietly stirring, I think of their pain. I remember my own. With each soup I have made, there are tears. I blame the onions. But we know better. When finished, I drop it off at their door, sending a text message that it is there. “Call me if you need anything.”

I recently made two pots of soup for friends. Each for a different reason. One was ill and the other is caring for her son who is dying. Part of bringing over a dish is that we don’t know what else to do. It is our way of trying to help what sometimes can’t be helped. It is a gesture that we are aware of their pain and wish we could make things better. That is the message that is stirred into each pot of soup.

Time to Shake Up Traditions

August 18, 2024 / Mama Fish

August is our ugly month. It holds so much loss, so much pain. Each year, our family holds our breath and plunges into the month with the hopes that we will survive. And we do. This year was different. Our past traditions were challenged by the different emotions of our family. We are all grieving, and up to this point, compromises seemed easier. This year was a battle of what everyone needed and how to create something that respected each need.

My daughter posted on her social media that this year she was done with being sad. She wants to move forward with all the wonderful and new things in her life. She is tired of being tired. And thus, continuing with our ways of coping unsettled her grief. She needed something different. Identifying what that might be seemed impossible.

I have accepted that the emotion of sadness will always be a main feeling within me. So, staying with what I know we do each year to celebrate Zane is safe. The past years have proved that I will get through it. My husband wanted whatever we wanted. Although he does have a way of putting his own spin on things each time, no matter what else might be suggested. So, I fretted about how to create an event that would be about Zane, that would include his friends and the new desires of my daughter.

We landed on a simple drink with whoever was available. We chose a bar that had easy access, free parking and a dog friendly patio. The bonus was it also had a nice wine! When this idea was shared and accepted, somewhat questionably, but accepted as what we would try this year, I handed it over to Jon. “Invite the usuals”, I said. And with that, I surrendered to what will be that day, will be. (Yep, still using that mantra because it works.)

Each year, I buy a token for Zane’s friends to keep in memory of him. This year I chose to give a little stone for each friend to carry. Jon came with me, and we picked out a newly found stone called K2. It is suggested that this high vibrational stone is for those wanting to become more aware of their soul and the souls of their loved ones. It holds an energy that is reported to calm emotions and brings people together in harmony. A perfect choice for what Zane did on earth and what each of us wants with him; to connect our souls and feel the warm synchronization of being together.

I laid the stones out on the table for his friends to choose the stone that spoke to them. As I gathered the left-over stones, one rolled out of the bag and landed in front of me. I looked down and there it was. A small cube shaped stone with an undeniable Z on it! His friends laughed and pointed at it. One friend leaned into me and said, “well if that isn’t Zane telling you he’s here, nothing is”. My son picked out my stone. These are the signs that make the heart explode.

The next day, our family debriefed on the party and agreed that it went well. It was a big change, but it was less work, roughly the same cost (perhaps a bit more) and Jon had invited those we loved and a few surprise guests that enhanced the evening. The truth, I don’t think it matters how we gather, but that we gather. His friends, our family, need this annual ritual of celebrating the person who connected us all. A toast to Zane, on his birthday, will never get old. And with that, we agreed to continue our traditions and be ok with shaking them up as needed.

Experiences Through Surrender-Part Two

August 11, 2024 / Mama Fish

I’d be amiss if I didn’t share the realization that I came to when visiting family this summer. I am not sure how or more importantly why our individual souls chose to group together as relatives for this lifetime with grief as the number one challenge. It seems that my holiday mantra, ‘surrender’ helped open my eyes to family dynamics and my heart to understanding deeper.

Every friend and colleague have told me that our family has experienced more death, more sadness than anyone they know. Some even joke about not being sure if they want to be my friend. In case death is contagious. I smile. We don’t wear this truth like a badge of honor. No, in fact we gripe about it. But, at the end of the day, we are a very strong clan, and I think living with grief fosters that.

Our family reunion this year included happy news, the sharing of struggles, living with grief, coping with mental and physical health challenges and every conversation included both tears and smiles. It was during this event that I realized how much our family has in common. Not just blood, or marriage or the sharing of children, but the soul plan of what we are facing, learning to live with and overcoming as a collective group. We each do our best to create an existence that honors God, ourselves and each other. We are a family who stand next to the ghosts in the closet and share real life struggles. We are a family that provides support to one another with no judgement of what has happened or why. We live in the mantra, surrender to what is, was to be. I feel very lucky to be in the company of such strength found in life’s adversity.

The day was preceded by a visit to the local cemetery. I had not visited the graves of my father-in-law or favorite Aunts or my brothers-in-law. As we toured the path, pausing at each tombstone to remember, I noticed how many of my beloved were resting here. In our family, we honor and celebrate our loved ones so intensely that one needs to be reminded they are not physically with us. The granite placings marking their birth, and their passing was surreal. It left me feeling empty and yet, when at the family reunion, the recollections of each person who had died brought them back. Our loved ones were there, invisible but very much with us. Joy returns through the saying of their names.

The day ended with four of us driving back with the roof down, the music blaring, singing at the top of our lungs. Arms waving up over our heads, I felt connected to every spirit, including Zane’s. The setting sun above us, the wind through our hair, the pleasure of being together. We ended at the harbor. My sweet sister-in-law wanted a moment to honor her beloved Kim. The harbor was one of his favorite places and it was fitting on that night, with the essence of our family reunion covering us, we stopped to be with Kim. The water gently clapping the cement dock, the soft green hue of the lighthouse across the lake, there was a peace that only matched Kim’s quiet persona. Another family member is with us in spirit.

Surrender is not a word used by warriors. And it is not a word I would use often. Our family are fighters. But the word has a place. When grief is as abundant as it is with our clan, when the pain of loss overcomes and clouds perspective, surrendering to what we can’t control can be calming. When we sit next to grief and ask it what I am to learn if I surrender, it carries power. Our family practices this intuitively. Our lives are full, and we can face our challenges, find strength in each other and when rest is required, momentarily surrender. This practice brings depth and bliss to the journey we experience together.

To Zane, Hope for What Six Brings

August 4, 2024 / Mama Fish

There is something to be said

about the power of the number six.

It is to bring balance, harmony

It is the number related to absolute love.

Ironic, isn’t it, a number that connects to the spirit

Encouraging one to seek peace within themselves

is the number for this year-to-be…

Something I have yet to achieve.

I wonder if this could possibly be a proposition,

reflected in the number of years you have been gone.

Perhaps this years’ number can present a solution

to how I might carry on with the burden of my grief.

Could it be thinkable that this is the year that

my internal screams hush

or the rage of the injustice settles

into a more manageable madness.

Or that my broken heart does not encourage

The rest of my body to manifest into another type of cancer.

Could there be some magic in the number six

that delivers what it is supposed to,

A peace, a harmony through its reminder

that it is all about unconditional love.

The type of love I have for you

and what you gave to me,

An eternal love that crosses the veil.

Maybe number six might bring with it

more of its meaning, in small seen doses

Perchance it may be that I will feel you more often.

Thus, I will put my hopes in this taunting number six

that it comes gently, carrying with it

The prophecy of better.

Time for the Bucket List

July 28, 2024 / Mama Fish

Jon and I had the honor of attending one of Zane’s closest friends’ wedding. The bride was elegant in a silk white dress, the groom handsome in his blue suit. The floral arrangements were soft pastel colors, the venue was a place they enjoyed a beer together in earlier days. Friends and family gathered to watch them cut the cake and dance to their first song as Mr. and Mrs. All in all, as most weddings go, it was beautiful. The difference with their special day is that the groom is dying of a brain tumor.

Weeks before this day, the groom and I shared a booster juice when he told me the doctors had stopped treatment. The tumor is growing and there is nothing left to try. We sat quietly sipping our drink, trying to accept this prognosis. I took a deep breath and said, “ok, where’s your bucket list?” He said he did not have one. I said, “well, you better start”. He said, “the doctors suggested there was not a lot of time left.” I said, “I think that time is all you have now, sweetie.”

On our next visit he shared that he had a couple things he would like to do. Get married and go to Oregon. I smiled. And as his energy lessened and the seizures began, that is what he did. He has defied time by placing what is important and planning what he has always dreamed of regardless of how little time he may have left on this earth. And that is what makes him, his life and his wedding day remarkable.

I held his moms’ hand at the wedding. She was experiencing a truly bitter-sweet moment. She was fully aware of the gift this day held. This moment contained pictures and stories and emotions that she will carry in her heart for the rest of her life. And she was aware of the irony this day had. It should be all about happy new beginnings with a bright direction. It should not include a death sentence.

And yet, as you watched this young couple embrace each other on the dance floor, we witnessed the way he gazed into her face, their wedding was like any other wedding. Filled with love. This was the onset of their new path together. It will contain all the expected and unexpected elements that every marriage has. None of us truly know how much time we have together. That night, time was still for them. And as they left the party to go off to their hotel, they took with them the supportive cheers their reception party shouted out and the hope that time might be kind and extend his stay. We still have Oregon to do.

Your Spirit at Stampede

July 21, 2024 / Mama Fish

Stampede has always been a unique holiday for our family. Especially Zane whose sister now carries the torch and makes him proud by spending almost every night there enjoying the food, the music and the fireworks. Part of our stampede tradition is going as a family for one day of games, shopping, wine and trying one weird food dish. This year we added a stop to Nashville North. Something we typically leave to the kids to enjoy but this year I felt I needed to go for just one drink. Turned into two. I came home tired and overheated and under the fan took out my notebook to write to Zane.

Dear Zane,

We just got home from stampede. A great time where I had an urge to go to Nashville North. Somehow, I knew you were there. I needed to see you. And I did. In the middle of the tent there was a spot where you would have stood, and the music was so loud that the beat was felt in my heart. I stood there feeling your spirit, strong, I could envision you dancing into the night, the mood, the energy and I knew you were here. It was great!

Oh, I know how much you enjoyed this annual festival. It brings tears of how much you loved it. How happy I was to have your spirit there to enjoy it with me. We love our signs and this year they were loud and clear. I saw the feathers, the donuts, the moon, the sky and stars. I could feel you with us.

2024 is the sixth, (magic number six), that you have been at stampede spiritually. Maybe that is why Nashville North was imperative. Maybe that’s why the wine was Rodney STRONG. Maybe that’s why the food catered to all my favorites, like macaroni and cheese poutine. I’m not suggesting you orchestrated this. I’m suggesting that the Universe celebrated you hard tonight. And invited us to be with you.

Sweet poo bear, you are SO here. So alive that strangers come to me knowing we are connected, and they feel your energy. You rocked stampede. You rocked Nashville North. This is your party and will always be your party. Good to be with you.

Every year the stampede feels different, but each year it brings with it a spiritual awakening that I recognize only after the day is done. This year the mood seemed lighter, and my cares stepped aside. Maybe the energy of thousands of people together to laugh and live in the moment is contagious. Maybe my ability to connect to my sons’ spirit is stronger. Whatever the reason, the veil seemed nonexistent this day. This year, grief took a moment to hold hands with me, and together we celebrated Zane’s spirit and his enthusiasm for life.

Experiences Through Surrender- Part One

July 14, 2024 / Mama Fish

The Angel card I picked out of the pile was ‘surrender’. It was the mantra given to me as to how to enjoy our trip east to visit family with my grief, my health and my fear of flying. I had not been back in nine years, and I had a bucket list of what I wanted to do and who I wanted to see. I held onto the word surrender for strength the whole week and through that experienced a beautiful collection of moments that I will cherish for always. One of them was Eileen.

We were invited to her backyard for an afternoon of cocktails and a dip in the pool. Pulling up to her home, we found her outside in her front garden. I was introduced to her, and the group walked to the back to settle in. As we came around the house, in front of us lay these vast grounds, filled with flowers, trees, shrubs and a winding path taking you deep into the back where a conversational seating nestled under a shady tree. There was something about this space; it took your breath away. I was drawn into its energy. I asked Eileen if she could tour me through this quiet haven, so arm in arm, we left the group to venture into her garden.

Her yard is filled with ornaments and gorgeous blooming plants, each with a story behind it. Some represented a loved one who had passed, some represented childhood favorites or symbolized wishes. Her yard is a collection of sixty years of honoring, remembering and celebrating those who she has travelled the path of life with.

We rested at the table under the tree. Her son brought us a cold drink. As he left, she turned to me and said, “this is the place my husband and I would have our afternoon drink”. It all made sense. This was her space to connect to the spiritual energy of those she loves. And the energy was thick. It was a peaceful pull at the heart, a frozen moment in time where souls shared stories of love and of loss. We were not alone. I could feel those we spoke of, laugh with us.

In grief, we talk about planting a tree in remembrance as one way to honor our loved one. That afternoon I experienced a yard full of such honor. Her ability to take each life experience and cultivate a space that holds the love and the memories of such is a tribute to the character of her heart.

As I took one last walk before we left that day, snapping pictures of each story, I was filled with inspiration. Eileen’s garden is a lesson in how we can take grief and turn it into something full of life, connection, and healing. Her yard is a testament to love never dies.

Coping with Grief Overload by Dr. Wolfelt

July 9, 2024 / Mama Fish

I preach that when you experience more than 3 of the top 10 stresses within a year, you become ill. Death is the top stress and when our family has experienced over a dozen in less than two years, how do I wonder why I am not feeling well. It is called grief overload. And it’s a real thing.

I turned to Dr. Alan Wolfelt, author and grief expert whose books support healing. His mini resource, “Too Much Loss: Coping with Grief Overload” was written for those who have experienced too many significant losses in a short span.

He begins by categorizing the many types of grief such as traumatic loss, grief of a caregiver, and back-to-back losses. He talks about how such losses affect one both mentally and physically. He offers exercises and suggestions on how to cope. It is a simple read and a truly helpful resource.

My aha moment was the exercise around understanding how many deficits one has had. We have lost multiple family and friends and yet, his exercise on taking inventory of all your recent losses illustrated I had more than I thought. Yes, we define loss as a loved one dying but loss is also a relationship, a home, a job, a sentimental item, or your health. Things I had not considered as they measured small to the people leaving earth. Yet, they count too. Loss is loss.

Once these losses were recorded, the next exercise was to take each one and reflect on how you are currently dealing with it. Are you numb to it or are you anxious about it. Do you feel guilty or angry? Or have some losses included a sense of relief? Placing a feeling to each loss helps understand why your feelings are such. When I did this exercise, Zane was listed under each area whereas others were listed under only one. And I discovered sadness is the category that every loss has a place in. This was an insightful exercise to see on paper where each of my losses fit and highlighted why that emotion is overwhelming me in other areas of my life.

What happens to us with grief overload is that we begin to shut down because we don’t know how to focus on one loss at a time. We are overwhelmed. Our brain starts to confuse which is which and why and then moves onward, leaving no time to ‘sit with our pain’ as we know how to when dealing with a single loss. Thus, our pain from each individual loss accumulates and festers as a mood swing or a weight gain or a foggy brain.

Dr Wolfelt advises professional counselling might be needed. He suggests scheduling time each day to sit with your losses. Address the one that is loudest and feel that pain. Then practice what we have learned with singular grief, focus on remembering, honoring that which is now gone. And then move on with the day. Breathe, self-care, time out. There is no time limit for healing.

He ends this book with the mourner’s bill of rights. A reminder to what we need and should expect when grieving, including the right to be tolerant of our physical and emotional limits.

PS: my apologies for the late posting of this week’s blog…I was basking in the sunshine of Ontario with family to which I will share with you soon, the healing wonders of such a trip!

The Trigger to Ground Zero

June 30, 2024 / Mama Fish

The beauty of Elbow Falls is not lost on me. I have enjoyed the serenity this area brings with the trees and the river running through with small cascading waterfalls along its path. It is a popular spot to hike, take pictures and generally get away from it all. Which is what Zane did often, leaving the city to be rejuvenated by the water’s edge or watch the stars or even a sunrise. It was the place he was coming home from the night he was killed.

When family and friends came to share our grief, trips to this place were taken. Everyone wanted to see the beauty of my sons’ favorite spot. Pictures were taken, his name etched onto a railing, hugs were shared. Each visitor appreciated the magic of this spot. Except me.

I went once, just after the crash, and looking over the flowing water, I could see him there. I could hear his laugh. I could see the scenes he captured, photographs that fill our albums. This was his place. Those memories, when I am in the security of my home, I think about. Why wouldn’t I see this place again? If I felt his presence then, I would surely feel it again. And isn’t that what we strive for? To feel our loved one’s energy with us. And yet, I have not been back.

It was a picture I received from visiting family members that answered why I have not returned. A picture of the two of them, in Zane’s happy place. Standing in front of the railing, the waterfalls behind them, the joy of this place clear on their faces. The picture triggered me. I wish this place did not exist now. I don’t care how wonderful it is, how peaceful it seems. All I can see is my son wanting to be there, going there, and not returning home. Elbow Falls has turned into an ugly trigger for me that drops me to ground zero.

Every grief warrior has one or more ground zeros. The place where the heartache is as harsh as the first day. Time pulls you away from the raw agony of ground zero, but triggers send you back. Triggers are brutal, the demons of grief. We prefer to ignore them because of the dire reminder of our reality that they carry. And yet, it is in the facing of these triggers that we can begin to find healing.

I used to debate with Zane the concept of cognitive therapy; the basic idea of managing fears or troubles by changing thoughts. I believed there were benefits behind this theory. Zane did not. We used to compare the pros and cons, respecting each other’s different opinions. And, for some reason, that topic came to mind as I sat there wishing I would never see or hear about Elbow Falls again.

Now that I have gained the understanding that Elbow Falls is related to my ground zero, I owe it to myself, to my grief, to work on this trigger. I took a deep breath, and thought about Zane, the theory of changing one’s thoughts…what would Zane say. I smiled. I opened my eyes and looked at the picture. I said out loud, “this is Zane’s healing place. It brought him joy. He shared this with you.” I took another breath. I thought if life was different, Zane would have taken them there. He would have relished sharing his happy place with family. He would be a part of this picture.

I closed the picture with the promise that I would come back and do this again. My mantra will be “Look not at the unhappy components this photo makes you feel but focus on the joy that this place has brought”. Working on changing my thoughts from this is the LAST place he was at, to this was ALWAYS his happy place, I hope somehow will give me the strength to stand up to ground zero.