Author: Mama Fish (Page 9 of 24)

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.

The Sharpness of Anticipatory Grief

March 12, 2023 / Mama Fish

Our friends have chosen the day they wish to depart. Through the assistance of MAID, they will be leaving this realm at the end of the month. We behave like they are planning to move. Which in essence they are. We tease as a distraction to what is happening by referring to it as ‘when you check out’. The reality of their truth is only now starting to hit home.

The pre-planning of death has numerous facets. Wills need to be in place, utilities need to be notified, investments need to be transferred, accounts need to be closed. The house needs to be purged and sold. The cat needs to find a new home. It is demanding. We have spent a lot of time with our friends doing our best to minimize these stresses so that they may enjoy their last days here.

As family and friends are notified that there will be no more events attended by them as of this spring, emotions vary and are raw. Understanding their decision fluctuates with each person. I have had my moments. I wanted this year to be one with no more losses and their intentional planning messed that up. A reminder that life is rarely about oneself. I don’t want them to go. We have had over thirty years of laughter and shared experiences. These two are more like family than friends. They are aunt and uncle to my children. They are our go to for a martini and wine. And yet, they will be gone soon, and I know this. It is planned.

It is not a sudden death that throws you into grief. It is anticipated which drags you, kicking and screaming to grief. And their decision is not about having a terminal illness or having endless pain, conditions that justify the desire to let your loved ones go. It is a personal decision they have made that their health and quality of life is not where they want to be, and it will only get worse. Thus, their choice. I get it. I am supporting them. It just doesn’t make it any easier.

The double edge sword of anticipatory grief is time. It is complicated because it holds promise and opportunity. One has time to plan the remainder of life on earth and the hereafter with focus. One has time to have more. More conversations, more memories, more hugs, more dinners. This is the comforting side, knowing that death will soon be here we become more intentional. The other side is less friendly.

Anticipatory grief makes us anxious; it is the taunting knowledge that time will soon be gone. This type of grief makes it difficult to focus on daily tasks that now seem mundane but are necessary. It brings the anger and sorrow of loss to hang over the last memories you are cramming in before they go. It brings with it a different type of guilt, a nervousness of is there enough planned, what else can be done, said, experienced before they depart. Grief is exhausting. Anticipatory grief can be double exhausting because, although I am grateful that I do have more time with my friends, I carry with me the agony of knowing, with each minute, that there is coming a point where there will be no more time. Two more of my tribe will no longer be. I can’t do anything about it.

I try to balance this madness by keeping busy doing little tasks for them that comfort them. I call them more often, visit them more often, ask more questions and share ideas of how we will honor them. We sort through photographs of past times and laugh at the “remember when…”

Our recent visit, my friend hugged me and tearfully said, “this is so hard, but I know that it is the right thing to do”. His strength found in his belief gives me the strength to keep showing up and to continue making memories with them that I will carry with me long after their final sunset.

Memorial Tribute to Dan

March 5, 2023 / Mama Fish

Dear Dan,

Today marks one year since we held your hand and said our goodbyes. It seems like yesterday we were laughing about life’s absurdities and giving thanks we were in it together. It also seems like it was a lifetime ago. Your death was different than Zane’s. I was able to say goodbye to you. I was able to tell you how much I loved you. I was able to make promises about life after you leave.

Your leaving has brought changes, big changes. These past twelve months, I have watched your family struggle without you. I have done my best to be there for them, a vow I made to you. The impact you had on us is clear. The love and attention we received from you is missing.

I remain steadfast that your name comes first. I have watched your bed side predictions come to life and have struggled to cope with the new realities. I hope you know that I try. You knew better. Perhaps your predictions were not that at all. Perhaps they were perceptions; that you knew, standing on the doorstep of death, what was coming. Your soft-spoken words were not a request of me but an assurance for me that you knew. It would be ok. I am going to hold on to that. I like the notion that, from wherever you are, that you are smiling with an “I told you so”. You are with us, able to see our pain but cheering us on from the heavens to create a life that brings us each happiness.

We continue to celebrate you, mindful of putting into place things that will honor you. We have received ‘gifts’ from you; obvious ones like the closer relationship I now have with your sister. Not so obvious ones too, like your visits through the electrical power of my light turning on in the middle of the night. I thank you for all of these.

Perhaps year two we can be a little louder, a little bolder. Like you were. I promise to continue to bring you with us. I promise to say your name. I promise that you will always be family. Death will not change that. And I wanted to thank you for the reminder that life will go on and that you are ok that it does. And therefore, we should be.

Look at you, Dan, continuing to teach from afar. Thank you. “I.O.U. big time”.

Holding the Black Balloon

February 26, 2023 / Mama Fish

My nephew recently attended the funeral of a friend of his who passed away of an accidental overdose. It was his tenth friend that died this way. He knows of another five young adults that have left earth in the same manner. I’m not sure what part is the saddest. That funerals from this cause of death are so many, that we seem numbed to the frequency of such or that my nephew has buried more friends in his short life than I have in mine. Both are equally tragic. Most importantly, another family is thrown into a lifetime of grief and will never be the same.

March 6^th is called black balloon day. Created by the family of Greg Tremblay, in memory of his passing in 2015. It is a day to stop and consider how many lives end unnecessarily through substance abuse. A day to remember those who are in pain and grieving from this. A day to create awareness to prevent future overdose. A day to further the conversations to learn more of this hushed epidemic. They symbolize this day with a black balloon. And encourage you to be creative, to post a balloon on social media and share how this day effects you.

For me, this day is about the many (new) friends I have in my grief community. The parents who have lost a child to drugs. Their stories of their beautiful, larger-than-life children whose desire to experience life at its fullest was too short.

This day is about my fear for my own family members who struggle with addiction, and on those very bleak days I go to bed with only the control to pray to God, they make it.

This day is about being angry that there seems to be no solution. And the continued hope that there will be one. There must be one. We are losing too many.

And this day is about the man who tried but failed to overcome his addiction and, in his actions, killed three people, including my son.

The symbol chosen for this day; the black balloon is fitting. A balloon, filled with either one’s breath or helium to represent the growth of life, blowing it up big. The color representing the agony and despair of what addiction can bring. But the most important detail of this balloon, I believe, is the ribbon. The simple thread which ties the balloon to an anchor. Secured, so that it won’t float away to the heavens. The ribbon, a symbol of confirmation that no matter how hard or how long one’s fight against drug addiction is, there will be someone there holding on.