Tag: #goodmourninggrief (Page 10 of 13)

First Lessons of a Death Diva

June 25, 2023 / Mama Fish

They say when you experience deep grief, you find yourself. Your truth north is formed. I’m not sure if that is right but it might explain my calling to be a Death Doula. Or as my good friend told me, “You are not a doula, you are a Diva…claim it”. That makes me giggle. I succumbed to this invisible push and signed up for certification training just before my brother-in-law was told he had advanced cancer. He became my practicum to which he took his last breath shortly after I graduated. I learned a lot and since his passing a year ago, I have had opportunities to practice my new skill. It has been bittersweet learning as they have all been close friends.

The biggest lesson I have learned is that no one wants to talk about death until it is too late. I have a friend who kept procrastinating the conversation and now she isn’t cognizant to have a meaningful one. Discussions about death are hard but necessary. It includes the answers to obvious questions; do I want to be resuscitated, cremated, or buried etc. But the questions that I feel are as important, if not more, are the ones about after-life. Is it ok to keep some of the ashes for memory jewelry? What specifics do you want at your funeral? What do you want us to do to honor and remember you? My brother-in-law had us promise, among a few other things, that there would always be pineapple torte eaten on his birthday. These answers from our loved one, before they depart, bring us solace when they do die. It gives credence to the fact that we are doing the right thing for them. There are fewer regrets. It is why these conversations are essential but sadly, seldom had to the degree they deserve.

The next lesson is all about anticipatory grief. When one is dying, we begin grieving. And grief brings out the best and the worst in a person. I have been snapped at, cried on, and asked to do a multitude of mundane tasks. I was asked to be at home or at the hospital and then told to get out. I have seen families split apart over the details of care and after-life desires. Anticipatory grief is grieving without the comfort of shock. It is raw and ugly. And no one escapes it. It includes judging, blaming, assumptions and irrationality. It is the hardest part of this new role when I want everyone to be ok but that is impossible.

The third lesson I have learned (in this early journey I am on) is that self-care becomes a stranger. You wish to be with your loved one every second. The sounds and disturbances of a hospital or home care create an environment that does not compute rest for those sitting next to their loved one. Showers, meals, and routine go out the window fast. Adrenaline is the ingredient that keeps you going.

It was 11:00 am when I was buying tea for a friend who had been with his partner all night. The young cashier looked at me and asked, “have you had breakfast?” I said, “what do you mean?” He said, “iced tea at 11:00 am…did you eat or is this your breakfast and probably your lunch?” I stopped to think. No, he was wrong, but I appreciated his thoughtfulness. And the reminder that we must care for ourselves so that we can fully care for our loved ones.

I value this new role of death diva. I want to help, to be there as a source of comfort in whatever way I can. It is a privilege to be a part of readying one to travel to the other realm, to listen to their needs and to assure them that we will fulfill their hopes and dreams as best we can and support their family and friends left behind. It brings peace to both parties. The dying feel sanctioned that their last wishes are respected. Those left behind are empowered knowing, not guessing, what their loved one wants. It is the foundation to enable you to carry your grief better, in the confirmation that you are doing what your loved one requested. That is my highest and most valuable message as I explore this path towards my north star.

Three Cheers for Fathers

June 18, 2023 / Mama Fish

I was blessed to have had 3 fathers share this life with me. Mine, my Godfather, and my father-in-law. Each one I had a very special relationship with that I carry with me long after they have gone. Each man was very different in his career choice, hobbies, and passions. The commonality was each of them was insightful, giving, and protective of those they loved. They did not say too much and did not say it loud. So, when they talked, if you listened, lessons abound. And those lessons, are part of who I am today.

My father worried that God would punish any of his sins through me. I was his first ‘little girl’ and his inability to spare me from harmful experiences molded him into a private detective that cared for me behind the scenes. He was my guardian angel. He was my first experience of kindness. Never did a stranger cross his path that he did not receive something from my father. He was the epitome of ‘do unto others as you would like them do to you’. My desire to nurture comes from him.

My Godfather kept me out of trouble, big and small. I was his girl that met him for lunches and shared my woes and found solutions in each conversation we shared. He stood next to me when I was threatened and guided me to safety. He was my shelter from the storms. He was my first experience of justice. Every situation he faced, he did with integrity to which he practiced in his career and his personal life. He was the epitome of ‘by the Grace of God, go I’. I watched him handle his own battles without a complaint and with the power of a gentle man. My desire to understand comes from him.

My father-in-law took philosophy to a higher level. I was his girl that we could share truths with about life, family, and ourselves. Our heart shared conversations about the things that mattered were a special part of our visits. His sense of humor hugged you like a cozy blanket while your soul giggled. He was my shining light. He was my first experience of self. Never did he condemn another’s actions or dreams. In fact the opposite, he encouraged one to follow their own path with honesty and goodness. He exhibited that in his own behaviors. He was the epitome of ‘to your own self be true’. My desire for discovery comes from him.

I think of each of them every day. Our families celebrate them often. It is hard to believe that they are not still physically here. But I guess that is the thing about fathers. Their absence is softened by the knowledge that their love is imprinted on our hearts. Their lessons a part of our makeup. Our souls know that they will always watch over us. We will always be, ‘their little girl’.

Slow Down, Your Soul Is Speaking

June 11, 2023 / Mama Fish

If you’re like me, you don’t slow down. I relish over setting goals, project planning, and task lists. I am an A-type personality that has been raised and has lived as an extrovert for sixty years. It was only in the last decade that I discovered I am an introvert. And accordingly, is the foundation of why I am an emotional, physical, and spiritual mess.

All my loved ones have begged me to slow down. Including Zane. In the days after Zane was killed, when my grief brought me to my knees every waking moment, I wanted to be alone. I wanted to not have to talk to anyone or listen to them or care for them. I didn’t want to slow down, I wanted to stop. I wanted just to be by myself. Of course, that did not happen, in fact quite the opposite. I ended up with more family and friends and social events that I was “obliged” to attend that my physical health got worse. Life did not slow down, it moved faster with work, moves, deaths, travel, and at the end of the day, cancer arrived.

I told my family that I believe my diagnosis was because the angels are fed up with me not listening to what I need so have given me a life-threatening wake up call. SLOW DOWN. And I did; but as a properly raised extrovert, I did for just a wee bit. Not long enough to correctly heal nor long enough to make it a lifestyle. So, no surprise that 6 months later, I find myself back in the doctor’s office with complications that require more tests, x-rays, and medications with scary side effects. Will I ever learn?

Here’s the thing. My therapist told me that when we are grieving, time alone to sit with our pain is essential. What she didn’t tell me, or I didn’t hear, was that sitting alone brought me closer to Zane. When I take the time to slow down and retreat, I feel my energy. I receive more signs. I have more dreams. I am in less pain. Time alone to sit with my thoughts and dreams recharges me to be able to be there for my family and friends better. Including my son.

I’m not sure why when we feel good, we forget to slow down. When the energy is there, we often keep running until it is depleted. A friend told me that when illness does not show on the outside, it gives people reason to think you are ok and expect more of you than if you were visibly ill. And we don’t help ourselves by saying, “I’m ok” when we know we are not. A-type personalities are great at faking being ok. Whether the struggle is mental or physical or both, we soldier on with a tough guy attitude that people learn to count on.

My nephew, struggling with his own health, wears a jacket that has imprinted on it, “Everything’s OK”. He wears it because of the irony of this statement. I laughed the first time I saw him wear it. He smiled and said, “right?” We get each other. If I was honest, my jacket would bear the statement, “I’m not ok, so don’t ask”. I hate having to explain why or reassuring those asking “it will be ok” when I don’t know.

All that said, we need to be honest with ourselves and others when we are not ok. We need to be comfortable with the times we are not ok. We need to quit pushing ourselves and pretending. We need to set aside time to sit alone and heal. Whether you are an extrovert or an introvert, slowing down and taking time to be alone is essential to feeling our best and to staying connected to those we love here and on the other realm.

It’s Going To Be OK

June 4, 2023 / Mama Fish

There were five of us diagnosed with cancer over the last year. Two with a brain tumor, one with melanoma, one with prostate and me with breast. It was another ‘thing’ that brought us closer. We all are good patients; listening, following doctor orders and so far, we all are ok. Until the phone rang.

I remember sitting in the doctor’s office with her. She was scared as an infection was now being biopsied. I held her hand. “It’s going to be ok.” We found out it was skin cancer. Surgery came. It going to be ok. Then more was found in the lymph nodes. It’s going to be ok. More surgery. It’s going to be ok. Then a lump appeared. It’s going to be ok. And then the lump grew. And now the treatment is radiation to ensure the lump doesn’t blow up until they figure it out. The answers will come next week.

While we wait, her sweet husband is calling all of us. It’s going to be ok, has turned to, “It’s not looking good”. And each of us holds our breath and sends prayers to the heavens. How is this possible? It was just 6 months ago we were shaking our booty to Pit Bull at her birthday party. A milestone party where we laughed at how she could shake it and would be shaking it for decades longer. What the hell happened? How did we go from that to this.

The sudden death of our children (3 of the 5 of us have lost a child), has taught us that life is not always how we wish. Through our children’s death we have learned to be warriors. But when ill health hits us personally, the art of being a warrior takes on a new meaning. A physical fight needs to join the emotional battle we endure every day. We have so much more living to do. Not for us. No, this is an unselfish request, plea to the Universe that we have another child, a pet, a spouse, more family…we have a ton of reasons as to why we must still be here. We are not ready to go because we know we are still needed. Our loved ones have already lost, and we want to spare them the pain of losing more.

These earthly emotions bring energy to your battle, strength to withstand cancer treatments and the pain that has you popping pills every four hours. It brings that smile to your face that your family so desperately needs to see. It also brings you closer to fate. The closer we get to our fate, the clearer we become of what is happening. Bravery becomes the mask worn.

Our group is blessed with the belief that we do not die. We live on. This doesn’t mean that when death comes close, it becomes more comfortable. No. It becomes the energy for our life’s task list. The clarity to see what still needs to be done, what can be released, and what we need to delegate becomes the focus. It is not giving up; it is getting real. We do it with the hope that there is a miracle still in the bag. It is demanding more time to ensure that when this life is completed, we pass with a feeling of peace that, “It’s going to be ok”.

That has now become the wish of my friend. And for the five of us, our friends and family, the term “FU** Cancer!” is shouted in unison. And shouted so loud that the heavens rumble.

“Walking Each Other Home”

May 28, 2023 / Mama Fish

Ram Dass was one of Zane’s favorite philosophers. He quoted him often. When I was at Chapter’s looking for my next book to read, I stumbled across a book titled after my favorite Ram Dass quote, “Walking Each Other Home” and I felt a warm fuzzy desire to curl up with this book and hear what more he had to say about how “we’re all just walking each other home”.

Co-written with Mirabai Bush, the book is a conversation between the two of different topics related to the dying process and how not being afraid of death would enrich our lives. It gives ideas and advice on how to be there emotionally for those we know with a terminal sentence and how to grieve completely. An interesting collection of personal experiences and philosophies that they share with the reader.

Ram Dass, born Richard Alpert, was a psychologist, writer, an American who popularized yoga and Eastern spirituality in the west. He did so by his ability to combine the aspects of yoga and many different religions into straightforward concepts of “be here now”. He became an expert in teaching three generations just how to do that.

People reached out to Ram as a spiritual guide, and he shared in the book letters he wrote to families seeking his counsel. My favorite of these letters was to Steve and Anita who had lost their daughter, Rachel. His compassion for the pain that they were holding is felt in his words.

“…I can’t assuage your pain with any words, nor should I. For your pain is Rachel’s legacy to you…” He goes on to say, “…Now is the time to let your grief find expression. No false strength. Now is the time to sit quietly and speak to Rachel, to thank her for being with you these few years and encourage her to go on with whatever her work is, knowing that you will grow in compassion and wisdom…” His letter could be to anyone of us. As I read it, I inserted Zane’s name for Rachel’s and the letter became that much more profound.

This book is for your soul. It is filled with conversation about love and about death. And how they are intertwined. It is filled with ideals and opportunities to practice, bringing awareness and a deeper meaning to your current day. It consoles those of us in emotional pain. It is a book that quietly strengthens us by assuring us that we are all just walking each other home.

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!