Tag: #zaneforever26 (Page 1 of 7)

Living in The Color of Green

January 26, 2025 / Mama Fish / 1 Comment

By each January, our family chooses one word they will use as their annual mantra. It aligns with where one hopes to go or feel with the opportunity of a fresh calendar year. The word is an individual word resulting from a reflection of the past times where one thinks of all that was good. And all that wasn’t so good. Of what one would like to change, or drop, or learn. It is an exercise that takes time and quiet to ponder the current path and possible directions one might go. The word chosen is symbolic of all those thoughts.

As a child, I used to have a superstition around how you felt and what you did on the eve of a new year, would be the overall feel to the next year. I dropped that superstition a long time ago and replaced it with a vision of what I want/need and a plan to achieve. All wrapped up in one word. This year my word is green.

It is about health. “Eat your greens”-I need more of that. I need more ways to be healthier for me and for those I care for. The word green brings with it a connotation that going back to my granola roots would be beneficial to my aging body.

It represents money, the realization that the desire for more to do more keeps us unbalanced. Sending a message to the Universe that I am open to ‘more green’ only means that I am open to new possibilities that align with what makes me feel secure and fulfilled. At work and at home.

Green is about energy. Good energy. It is the color of the fourth chakra, the heart. This chakra is about giving and receiving love for others and for oneself. I think a little self-love is something I want to practice more of. What would that even look like?

My family thinks it is interesting to have chosen a color, rather than a verb. I chose this word partly because it doesn’t dictate action. Although it could. It is soft and simple. It is flexible. It is inviting. It conjures up in my mind, sunny days, tree-filled parks, and a bounty of life. Warmer (and perhaps happier) times.

Green symbolizes what I wish to pursue. More time with nature. New growth, greater hope and a solid balance. And the color provides a little bit of luck to help me along the way.

The Little White Pill

January 19, 2025 / Mama Fish / 0 Comments

I’m getting to know the new Arthur Child Cancer Care Centre at Foothills Hospital. It is a beautiful, new $50 million dollar complex that caters to the research, treatment and support of those diagnosed with cancer of any kind. I am learning that once diagnosed with cancer, one begins a battle that is life-long.

I got lucky, if there is such a thing with cancer. We caught it in its early stages. I chose a double mastectomy to ensure it would not come back. I took genetic testing to see if I had other possible cancers in my DNA. I took the oncotype test to determine if traditional chemo or radiation would help prolong my life. It wouldn’t so I didn’t have to go through that. All I needed was to swallow a little white pill for five years to ensure that my body wouldn’t make any more cancer-causing estrogen. But when I couldn’t get out of bed because of vertigo, and my body contorted into painful muscle tightening shapes and leaving the house was a risk unless I carried a plastic bag with me…I said stop.

Cancer is the unknown. It’s life threatening and when one has been given a diagnosis, it is difficult to think clearly. It is difficult to think at all. Treatment would be straight forward to blindly follow the advice of the experts. If only I wasn’t inquisitive. No one can seem to fully answer why five years. Even the experts have varying opinions. Some say five, some say ten, some say forever if it doesn’t seem to bother you. What happens after the five years? That is a varied answer too. “We can’t say”. What about testing in between now and then? “That’s different with every patient.” And what I learned and experienced about the side effects, is that they include hot flashes, headaches, bone loss, muscle pain and sometimes ovarian cancer! How is this part of a stay healthy regime? It baffles me.

It was at my recent physical that I shared I had quit my medication and was finally starting to feel normal. Two days later, the oncologist called and asked me to come in. “We are wanting you to try a different drug”, the young doctor smiled. Why? I asked. “Because we believe this is your best chance to live another ten years.”

Fear is the reason this pill becomes necessary. I don’t want to die. I have a lot to do before I travel off to the next realm. As I sat listening to her talk of the new plan and this pill and how we will be more vigilant with any side effects, fear had me agree to try again. I don’t know what this pill will do. It isn’t a promise I will be safe from cancer returning. It is more of a weak insurance policy. Yet, it is the only answer the experts have for me.

As I left the Cancer Centre with my new prescription in hand, I walked through the halls where other patients were travelling to their appointments. I am one of thousands battling cancer. Some of us are just becoming aware of the battle to be. Some of us are amid the battle. Some, like me, are battling to ensure it does not return. Wherever one is in the battle, it is a battle. It is so much like grief. It includes fear, sadness, hope and determination. It is exhausting. And like grief, it includes faith. Faith that I have the strength needed to travel the path I have been given.

A Letter to The Friends of The Grieving

January 12, 2025 / Mama Fish / 0 Comments

At a social event, our friend who was just diagnosed with a brain tumor, had a person come up to him to acknowledge they knew of his condition. This person shared a story with our friend of their experience with a family member, also diagnosed with a brain tumor. It was a grave and pessimistic story that ended with she died. Our friend stood there, soaking in what he had just heard in absolute disbelief. Then, he pulled himself together and went up to this person and told them that this is not what anyone with cancer (of any kind) needs to hear. He concluded saying, “don’t tell that story to anybody else ever again.”

When our friend told us about this, we laughed. Good on him to have the courage to reflect and then act, replying with a direct WTF! STOP. YOU ARE NOT HELPING. We laughed because it’s how we would all like to react. The truth is, whether it is the loss of a loved one or a terminal diagnosis or a major life challenge given to us, grief arrives. And we are learning how to handle that. Yet, we have all experienced some well-meaning person give advice, share a story or give comments that leave us dumbfounded of how utterly far they are from truly understanding our reality. And in our grief circles we talk about this.

We also talk about the why such might have been said. We know it comes from the heart. We understand that this person means no harm. They are trying to relate to our unrelatable. I have said many times, it is us, the grief warriors, that need to educate those trying to support us. If I could hand out a letter to folks, when I began my grief journey, it might have looked like this:

Hello,

I am grieving and you are aware of that. I know you wish to help. In my confusion of what I am living with, it is difficult for me to know exactly how you could do that. So be patient with me.

Recognize my grief. Acknowledge you are aware of what I am living with. A simple, silent hug is usually best. Or tell me, “I’m sorry. I’m here for you.” Please don’t continue with how my loved one is in a better place or this is God’s plan for me.

Converse with me. I don’t want to be the elephant in the room to which everyone scurries to another place in discomfort. Smile at me. I am dealing with grief; I can still be capable of some social interaction.

Ask me not “how are you feeling” but rather “how are you coping” or how is your grief today”. Each day will be different for me, and I don’t want to feel like I need to say I’m ok when I’m not. If my reply is negative, I’m not asking for ideas to fix it. I’m asking for understanding. Reassurance that you are here if I need anything will comfort me.

I may want to talk about it. And all I want you to do is listen. I don’t want to hear comparative stories. I want you to just sit with my pain. To be comfortable with my tears.

If my grief is loss, I want you to talk about my loved one. Say their name. Don’t be afraid to upset me. I am already, will always be upset they are no longer living on earth. Hearing their name, sharing a memory about them lights up my day in a bitter-sweet way that I treasure.

Never judge where I should be in my grief. My grief is here to stay. My brain is learning how to accept my new reality. My heart is learning how to beat around this massive hole it has. Time does not exist within these lessons.

I am not my old self; I am becoming someone new. That is the uneasy and difficult part of grief. You and I wish that I could be the same, but that is not to be. My soul is learning of who I will become with this grief. You too must be strong and accepting of the new path to which I have been forced to travel.

21 Days to Jump-Start Your Intuition by Sonia Choquette

January 5, 2025 / Mama Fish / 0 Comments

With my quest to connect to the other side of the realm, one of the shining stars to help with this is Sonia Choquette. Her book, “21 Days to Jump-Start Your Intuition” was my compass. Sonia is an author, spiritual teacher and intuitive guide. Her soft-spoken ideologies I have gathered in courses, social media and written word and she always leaves you feeling empowered.

Her book is broken down into weekly chapters with each day focusing on a specific concept to turn on this superpower we all have. She shares stories, both personal and those of her clients, and an exercise to practice strengthening the concept presented.

The first weeks are about understanding intuition. The exercises are geared to overcoming the doubts as to why one might be skeptical of a gut feeling. Then she gives suggestions on how to strengthen it; the importance of staying grounded and meditation. All this helps open our minds to accepting that following our intuition connects us to our soul’s message.

Her “name it, claim it” chapter is about expressing the vibes we always get, like a shiver down your spine. The activity is to label these feelings and be more aware of them. For example, her family has a term “zipper up”. She writes, “…zipping up, which is a way of protecting yourself from unwanted influences, like zipping up your tent to keep out a hungry bear.” When in a situation of such, to name it, “zipper up”, reinforces action on your part to not get caught up in whatever is happening.

Her book teaches us that following your intuition will alter you, making you feel and/or appear changed. She encourages us to ‘dare to be different’ and speak up about what you are feeling. I think this is a good practice for one’s self esteem and confidence and the fact that it also opens your heart to hear our children is the ultimate bonus.

In the final week, the days are about the finishing touches to jump-starting your intuition. Walking and talking to your God or Angels, opens the communication realm. Laughing to raise your vibration is mandatory. And recognizing when ego is taking over is key. Sonia writes, “…intuitive people recognize themselves as more than only ego. They know themselves as spiritual beings in a loving, unlimited, and supportive Universe.” And when we become “Divine Detectives”, we find the answers to which we seek.

This is the book I share with anyone who asks how I can connect to my loved ones better. This easy read makes it possible to do just that. Following your intuition does make for a more meaningful experience here on Earth as our intuition aligns with our soul. And our souls, as we know, are forever connected to the Universe where our children live.

The Proof Is in The Palm of My Hand

December 21, 2024 / Mama Fish

I went into a store my daughter suggested I would enjoy, a witchy store full of gems, candles, spiritual interests. I went in to find a carrier oil I wanted. I left with the most beautiful gift in the palm of my hand. A reading of my past and future by Carmina.

I didn’t plan for this reading. Some sense as I shopped, kept urging me to ask about it. The clerk told me they do all sorts of readings from numerology, astrology, intuitive, angel and palmistry. Appointments can be made, and the price is reasonable. I asked about palmistry. I had dabbled in that once, as a teen, and loved the idea that your life was pre-drawn in the lines of your hands. Could I make an appointment for that type of reading. She went to check and came back that there was an opening now.

Carmina shared with me that my left palm, that which illustrates the trials and triumphs predestined for me to experience were completed. And, as my age is over 50, we focus on my right hand. The lessons I am still to learn. My right hand showed several things, many of which are typical struggles for an “A” personality…I have not slowed down, I have not practiced self-care enough, I have not learned to stand up for what I want/need. She pointed to small, faint lines on my hand that illustrates I am to learn and grow in these areas. She asked who or what I was angry with as she pointed to a puffy area with a deep line by my thumb and suggested I focus on that too. And then she said, “I want to talk about Poseidon”.

Apparently, the moon of your palm is about the underworld, the other realm, the connection to spirit. My heart line is a deep strong line running across my entire palm. But there is a break, a definite separation which outlines that I have lost BIG, that my heart has been shattered. And there is a second heart line, picking up from the broken line, which carries into the moon of my palm. She studied this line for a moment and said, whoever it is that you have lost, that is this line. This is the person who is connected to you indefinitely, who has been and will continue to help guide you, a sort of soul mate, a cheerleader of your destiny.

She caressed my hand and then looked out her window. She turned to me and said, “I have not seen such a line go so far into Poseidon’s area, you must understand how special this connection is. It is a connection to the other realm.” It was at that moment I felt I needed to be transparent with her. I told her, “I think the line of which you speak, is about my son Zane.” She tilted her head. I said, “he was killed in 2018.” She let out a gasp and grabbed my hand and pressed on the point where the two lines joined. She told me that, if I didn’t already know, that this bond to my son came before this life and will continue. Forever.

Every grief warrior wishes to hear something like this about their loved one. The fact is, I sensed this before he was conceived. Our entire earthly experience as mother and son was something we both knew was special. Yet, having Carmina show me the proof of these feelings in the lines of my palm, was such a gift. I know now that any time I miss my boy, I need only open my palm and press the center of it to remind me of our eternal connection.

Then, POW, You Are Gone!

December 15, 2024 / Mama Fish

When I found out my doctor was retiring, I burst into tears. He patted my hand and said, “Janica, I’m turning 70. Did you think I would never retire?” I moaned, “no I did not. I thought you’d work until one of us dropped dead.” He laughed, “I want to enjoy the last of my years, I want to travel, to not have to schedule celebrations and long lunches into only the weekends at best.”

He was my parent’s doctor and when I was looking for a new doctor, he became our family doctor. He delivered my daughter. He was there when my parents died. When Zane was killed. When I was diagnosed with breast cancer, he hugged me and said, “we’ll get through this together.” And we did. He has always been there, through thick and thin. For all of us.

I jest that I am mad he is retiring because it has taken me years to train him to get on my program. As a person who needs to process my health challenges, study alternative healing and then decide what is best for me, my doctor respected that and indulged me. “What will your herbalist suggest?”, he’d ask after explaining what my latest test results showed. His compassion for spending the time you needed rather than the time that was available, kept the waiting room full. His nurse kept us entertained with lively conversation while we waited our turn. Doctor visits were not a dreaded thing. And all this will end with his retirement.

I’m not sure how to say goodbye to the man that has cared for my entire family forever. Being in my 60’s who will be the next doctor that I can trust to examine me and know what is normal and not for me. Your doctor is your most trusted ally. They are the person whose education and expertise will guide you through the physical and mental challenges life brings you. They play a big part in your longevity. His departure leaves me feeling vulnerable. And there it is.

A common characteristic of grief is the fear of more change, the dislike that we are not in control of what will be. My doctor is going to retire and of course I want him to enjoy life. The realization that the person who has cared for me, who I have trusted my life and the lives of my family with, will no longer be there is a big change. I am feeling loss. Plain and simple. And with loss comes sadness.

So, I am giving myself time to be selfish and feel like how could he abandon me in my golden years. Then I will pick up the phone and continue my search for his replacement. To which I am confident I will find. This new doctor will be accepting me as a patient who brings with her multiple inflammatory conditions including an attitude that you better measure up, you got big boots to fill!

Dr. Pow; thank you for being the primary caregiver of our family for decades. May the hope, the light and the confidence your support gave us be felt in your heart as you travel your new path.

An Invitation to Light the World on Fire

December 8, 2024 / Mama Fish

Today, is World Candle Lighting Day. It is an annual event where one is asked to light a candle to honor the children who have left our earth too soon. Wherever one lives, when the clock strikes seven in the evening, a candle is lit, so that, by the end of the night, every home has a small light of fire sending a beacon of love to the Heavens.

Can you imagine what that might look like to our kids; looking down to earth and seeing the planet seemingly on fire by the beauty of this warm glow. That the entire world shares in the honoring of our children. The message that our love is still burning. That the memory of our lives together continues to light our paths.

I invite you, at seven tonight, your local time, to take a candle, any candle and light it or turn it on. Then as you look at its tiny flickering, remember them. Say their name. Feel their energy envelope your space. We know our children are not gone. We receive signs that they are here, loud and clear. Tonight, this action returns the message to them. It says, “look at this place, ablaze for you to continue to shine now as you did on earth.”

Let’s light the world on fire.

Jolly Sweet Joseph

December 1, 2024 / Mama Fish

We live in a community where the average age is north of sixty. Way north. Joseph, whose apartment is above us and one over, could be heard speaking on the telephone loud enough to hear himself to which the rest of us did too. On his 90^th birthday, he bought himself a new car when he passed his driver’s license. I asked if he liked the new one and he said, “it’s the same car as my last one, just has more safety features I now need.” Joseph took a fall in his apartment recently, ending up in hospital with a head injury that he could not recover from. His absence is noticed in our building.

When we first moved in and met Joseph, we would see him often as we walked Tango. He would pull up to say, “hello. How are you. I’m fine.” Every time. You knew Joseph was recently in the elevator because of the lingering scent of his cologne.

He was flirtatious. He told me once that he envied Tango. I asked why. He said, “because he can spend so much time with you.” He had a great sense of humor. When I had returned home from a trip to Mameo with my sister, I saw him on the street and told him about it. I went on my way, and he went into the garage and bumped into Jon. Jon asked him what he was up to. Joseph said, “oh, I just got back from Mameo.”

“A kind, sweet man”. That is how everyone in our complex describes him. And he was. It isn’t that I knew him well. I don’t even know if he has family nearby. I reckon I will learn this when we attend his funeral. But his passing does leave a hole. The parking lot is quieter. The elevator has no distinguished smell. His TV and telephone conversations are no longer heard. It is, for me, a gentle loss.

What do I mean by gentle. I suppose it is that my interactions with Joseph were casual, neighborly. We did not share stories or personal matters of the heart. We never had a drink together. Maybe, the number or the intensity of connections is relevant to the depth of love. And thus, the pain of loss feels softer when compared to other relationships. A gentle loss is not as heavy as the grief of other losses that I live with. It still hurts, but not as sharply.

And it does not take away from the enjoyment had with my brief conversations with Joseph. He was a sweet, older man whose character livened up our community. I am truly, tearfully sad. I will miss him. After all a loss is a loss, even if it is gentle. I sit with my tea and remember him fondly and my heart smiles of the antics we all experienced with such a wonderful human. I feel blessed to have had the pleasure of knowing such a beautiful soul.

Joseph, may you giggle with the angels. Thank you for making each of us feel so special.

An Angel on The Road

November 24, 2024 / Mama Fish

Awhile ago, we had picked up our daughter to go out for dinner and I absent mindedly left my cell phone on the roof of the car while I was organizing our seats. I didn’t notice it was gone until we were well on our way, and hoped somehow it would be under the seat. When we stopped and it was not there, I knew what had happened. I went to bed that night and said to Zane, “gather your Angels and find it for me, would you? It has your voice, your pictures, your texts in it.”

I don’t know if you can retrieve all that when you replace your cell phone or not. And I didn’t have to worry about it, because when I woke the next morning, there was my phone, sitting on the arm of my chair! My husband had gone out early to look on the road for it and noticed a reply to a group text he had sent out the night before asking our family to look for my phone. The person replying identified themself as Kelly and said they worked for Alberta Highway Services and had found my phone on the side of the road at two in the morning. Kelly texted “…because the phone had battery life still and no password, I was able to open it up and saw this text that you were looking for it. I will leave it at the office.” Jon went to the office and brought it home.

I wrote Kelly a thank you note and asked Jon to deliver it so that it would not get lost in the mail. On our way to Costco, Jon commented that the truck next to us was an Alberta Highway Service truck. Then he said, “wait!” and grabbed the note and told me to roll down my window and hand it to the guy and ask him to give it to Kelly. Jon honked the horn to get his attention, and I leaned out with the note extended and yelled, “can you give this to Kelly?” He stared at me puzzled. I continued, “Kelly, he works for Alberta Highway Services. He found my phone on the road, and I want to give him this thank you.” The man replied, “I’m Kelly!”

We pulled over and got out of our vehicles. We wanted to know the whole story. He told us that usually, they do not find small items and if they do, they give it to lost and found. But something happened that night. He was driving along in his truck when something caught his attention. He wasn’t sure what it was. He pulled over and saw my phone. “I don’t know if it was the reflection of the case but there seemed to be a little light blinking or something that caught my attention.”

I have always believed in Angels. I believe that my loved ones, especially Zane, look down upon us and work with ‘earth angels’ to watch over us. Earth angels are selfless people who unknowingly spread light, love, and positivity wherever they go. I know my phone was not lit up that night. It had laid there for hours and it was dark and on the side of the embankment. It was intuition that made Kelly stop. And my definition of intuition is the angels are speaking.

We told him of the importance of my phone, of Zane, of what had happened. He shared with us that he has a young son, who he writes a continued text to about his days, his learnings and why it is important to be kind. Then it clicked; the important connection my phone has with me. And he stopped speaking. He took a deep breath and apologized for getting emotional. I told him, “I believe it was Zane and his angels there (pointing to the sky) that work with the angels here and unknowingly you’re one of them.” I patted his arm. He modestly replied that he just likes to be kind and do the right thing and hopes he is teaching his son the same. Spoken like a true earth angel.

Grief is Love by Marisa Renee Lee

November 17, 2024 / Mama Fish

The latest book I read was, “Grief is Love” by Marisa Renee Lee who wished to reveal how one can create space for their grief to help experience joy in this life. Her story is of loss that she has experienced personally through the death of her mother, a pregnancy and a young cousin. Interestingly she also explored the impact of grief on Black women, which she calls Black grief.

Her comparison of how Black women struggle more than others, made this an interesting read for me. I acknowledge that prejudices are alive and sadly abundant, but this book was about living with loss. The suggestion that one loss is greater than another was distracting. I have never thought of putting a color on grief.

Marisa writes how her grief was layered with the bigger picture of motherhood, lack of resources, and the overall issues with reproductive health in the United States as a Black woman. She writes, “It was not just about me or “just” about the pain of my pregnancy loss. I carried grief in my bones connected to the complicated history of motherhood and Black women.” She tells us that Black women in particular, suffer silently and if they don’t, they are met with disbelief or minimized. She speaks of how Black women try to bury their grief, causing self-harm by doing so. All things that many women experience but the effects of loss, every grief warrior has experienced. How was hers so different. I kept turning to the back page, looking at this beautiful, poised woman, thinking why do you carry such pain from so long ago with you. What that must do to your grief. Don’t you have enough? My heart poured out for the pain of this person; and distracted me from why I bought the book in the first place. To find joy. Not more grief.

I digress, this book is about loss and Marisa did provide the reader with some great advice on how to live with deep grief. From the basics, like giving yourself permission to grieve and feeling the pain, to more complex topics like how grief effects intimacy and the importance of grace. Her tip to “be prepared to extend grace to those around you, but most importantly, you need to extend grace to yourself.” That hit me hard.

My favorite chapters were Legacy and Love. She reminds us that the death of a loved one does and SHOULD change us. She writes, “You are their mark on this world…your transformation is their legacy.” I found that statement inspiring. And she assures us that death can be the beginning of a new relationship with your person. “Death asks us to figure out how to pull them forward, how to bring them into a new future with you.” I love that challenge.

Marisa could have ended the book there, but she continues. Her grief journey also brought to her, an understanding of the pain of discrimination and her commitment to “loving my Blackness in the midst of racism and white supremacy.” This created confusion for me, the subliminal message that loss is loss but even more so if you are a Black woman. I am sure I misunderstood that. I stand strong in the belief that loss is loss.

This book is that of an accomplished, young woman sharing her journey of loss which is complicated by her correlation to a historical tragedy that continues in acts of bias, violence and injustice. Her message of facing life with gratitude, hope and love is what all of us need to hear, and to practice. To this list I would add forgiveness. No matter who you are, what you look like, or where you come from. Perhaps living such a life could truly heal all wounds.