Tag: #zaneforever26 (Page 3 of 6)

To Zane, Hope for What Six Brings

August 4, 2024 / Mama Fish

There is something to be said

about the power of the number six.

It is to bring balance, harmony

It is the number related to absolute love.

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

Encouraging one to seek peace within themselves

is the number for this year-to-be…

Something I have yet to achieve.

I wonder if this could possibly be a proposition,

reflected in the number of years you have been gone.

Perhaps this years’ number can present a solution

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

Could it be thinkable that this is the year that

my internal screams hush

or the rage of the injustice settles

into a more manageable madness.

Or that my broken heart does not encourage

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

Could there be some magic in the number six

that delivers what it is supposed to,

A peace, a harmony through its reminder

that it is all about unconditional love.

The type of love I have for you

and what you gave to me,

An eternal love that crosses the veil.

Maybe number six might bring with it

more of its meaning, in small seen doses

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

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

that it comes gently, carrying with it

The prophecy of better.

Time for the Bucket List

July 28, 2024 / Mama Fish

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

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

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

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

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

Your Spirit at Stampede

July 21, 2024 / Mama Fish

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

Dear Zane,

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

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

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

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

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

Experiences Through Surrender- Part One

July 14, 2024 / Mama Fish

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

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

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

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

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

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

Coping with Grief Overload by Dr. Wolfelt

July 9, 2024 / Mama Fish

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Trigger to Ground Zero

June 30, 2024 / Mama Fish

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Gaining of Clarity

June 23, 2024 / Mama Fish

The dark bruises on my arms and the ache in my back remind me that I am not the 20-year-old event planner I once was. I’m not even the 40-year-old. Events are hard on me.

I fell into event planning when the kids were small and then brought that expertise into my contract work. I’m good at it. But the planning takes all my energy and leaves me feeling like someone I am not. When I try to say, I shouldn’t do events, another one comes along, and I take it on. I have ignored the feelings my heart sends. I have made excuses each time that the next time will be different. I am encouraged by friends that I should not stress as everything always works out. I try to believe this, but what I am ignoring is that, apparently, my body and soul do not agree. So, what do I do? I keep saying yes.

I read somewhere that just because you may be good at something doesn’t mean you should be doing it. The writer suggested when we are doing something, to check in with how you are feeling. If the activity brings joy and a sense of excitement, you are on the right path. If the activity gives you trouble, and frazzled nerves, get off the path. “What you do, should bring you energy, not deplete it.”

This last event, the biggest fundraiser of my work since Covid, was co-organized with my daughter and the help of the ‘hip crew’ and our husbands. As events do, it had with it the many challenges of listening and respecting each team member’s individual vision and preferences and trying to create something that we would all be proud of. It was not an easy task and included overtime hours, hard conversations and, as always, compromises. This is event planning.

At the end of the night, it was lovely. Funds were raised, accolades were received, and talk about the next event pursued. It was difficult to hear the excitement of planning a next one over the internal screaming of my body and soul saying, you are too old for this! I am now hibernating, reflecting and licking my wounds.

I have discovered that my soul is not comfortable with event planning as there is little control with many variables (like weather, overbookings & catering orders) which cause me anxiety. There is a must for negotiations as details change, and the team can disagree which causes me angst that everyone is not ok. There are always small details that are completed at the last minute that create sleepless nights where I lie in bed going over and over the task lists. And yes, in the end, it does all work out beautifully. It’s getting there that grates against the serenity my soul needs. Planning events deplete me, they do not fill me up.

When one lives with grief, clarity is something you gain. You are sensitive, maybe over sensitive, to what is needed to ensure that your heart is soothed, and your mind finds peace. Clarity lights a path to what those needs are. And we want to follow that path in hopes that our grief will be tamed.

I have been an event planner most of my life, accepting the emotional drain they have on me as part of the job. The gift of clarity that my grief has brought me, through this last event, is that it is time to pass the torch. And with that acknowledgment, I feel my soul breathe a sigh of relief and whispers, “finally”.

Time, the Complex Accomplice

June 16, 2024 / Mama Fish

I received a picture from my friends’ husband, of her tombstone. I replied how beautiful it was and, as I knew her urn was not yet placed, asked if he would be placing it soon. He said yes, and added what date that would be. I stared at my phone. The date reminded me of what he said when she passed. “I’ll keep her with me for a year, and then lay her to rest, beside her son.” It will be a year this July.

In life, time is a friend and an enemy. They say time softens grief (to which I have yet to experience) and they say time reminds you of how fleeting this life is. I know she passed; I was there. But a year ago? How can it be that already? Her family has gone through the ‘firsts’-first birthday, holiday, anniversary, and they are now coming up to their second year. To which we all know when living with grief, is when time plays the enemy more often than not. I am so sad. This is life with grief. A continuum of what we know, the pain of loss and the reality of traditions starting, ending or modified.

Sometimes grief is ignored around what is true because it muddies the happy moments. Then time prompts us it isn’t going away through a calendar of events now changed forever or added to because of our loss. Sometimes grief is faced with courage and strength because the counting of time tallies the days we have survived. Sometimes grief shows up unexpectedly and the struggle is real and time whispers, “breathe, this too shall pass.” Time can be argued by science, whether it is real or not. But for sure, it is measurable. Grief warriors become experts at measuring time.

How fast time flies is a statement everyone understands. Because everyone has, in one way or another, experienced this. In grief, time becomes more dimensional with more substance of how it controls you, and, oddly, how it supports you. Life gets divided into sections before loss, and after loss and then subdivided between the number of years. Time is very real.

Yet, we begin to see many signs that our loved ones are still here with us and that gives depth to the idea that time is only on our realm. The notion that our loved ones defy time and can stay with us for all time is a comforting belief.

In any case, time makes grief very complex, as with my friend. How has she been gone for a year when my heart still feels that a summer drink in her backyard is a possibility. Time reminds me I had that once, I can have it still, just that it will be different. The yin and yang of time is the same as grief. Bittersweet. And the only control we truly have with time is how we choose to value it.

Celebrating Here and After

June 9, 2024 / Mama Fish

My heart is full. That is what I said on a Sunday afternoon after I attended both a birthday party and a funeral in the same day. It was a peculiar sensation of full circle to be celebrating two friends in such opposite ways. I leaned into this feeling.

The first event was the birthday party. My friend arranged for thirty of her girlfriends to join her for brunch at the exquisite Palliser Hotel. She claimed it was her second last big party. She wanted to share her gratitude and be a part of the festivities and told us she would not be at her next one. She’d be dead. We laughed. You have to know her. She is full of life, an avid bookworm and far more energy than those half her age. She has already planned her funeral including the inscription on her tombstone which will read, “The End.” She sent us home with a recipe card to fill in on one side “what makes you happy?” The other side of the card had her answers which included a restaurant budget, and at 80 she was enjoying retirement. On the top of her list was family -always.

I left the celebration to drive across town for the next party. This one, friends and family gathered at the picturesque Glencoe Golf and Country Club to say farewell. This party too had speeches and food and wine for a beautiful afternoon of remembering and honoring a man very much loved. It too had people speak of life and happiness and how fast it goes. And because of life’s speed, to always put family first. As did our friend with his life. A show of hands revealed that most of us in that room had received personal handwritten notes from him from time to time with words of hope and encouragement. We were asked to remember this characteristic of him and to share acts of kindness in our own ways as a tribute to him.

The day ended with Jon and I sitting on our patio reflecting on this day. I mentioned how odd it was of the commonalities of two very different reasons to gather and celebrate one’s life. Or was it?

I enjoyed the birthday party because my friend is alive, so I know she heard me tell her how lucky I am to be in her life. I can hear her laugh and see her smile. I can hug her with an expectation to see her again. Soon.

I enjoyed the funeral because my friends’ spirit is still very alive. Although not physically there, each person said they knew he was with us. It was a reminder that energy is distributed, and it never ends. And with that belief we can understand what was said, what was felt, our friend knows. He heard us honor him. Faith gives us the ability to rejoice in that which we shared; he still shares with us.

Somehow when I hang on to the important aspects of each of these commemorations, the love of family and the joy of having these people in my life, both events are fulfilling. They are similar, containing a gathering of stories, over food and wine with laughter and tears. Each one a moment in time of honoring and celebrating the expression of endless love. And that is what makes the heart so full.

Imagine Heaven by John Burke

June 2, 2024 / Mama Fish

John Burke is an author, international speaker, and a pastor. His book shares the near-death experience (NDE) of hundreds of people and their story of what they saw when their soul was temporarily disconnected from their body. This subject makes an interesting read. The fact that every person had a similar experience (regardless of age, gender, ethnicity, or location) makes it a fascinating read.

As a grieving mother, I found comfort in the recollections of a place that starts with a bright light, a welcoming committee of loved ones and a sense of purity with no anguish of any kind. Those who have had an NDE all shared similar experiences of being in a place that contains an endless kaleidoscope of colors, where flowers and forests are forever, and water comes alive.

Each person had a meeting with a male figure who showed them a life review of their journey on earth. It was unanimously described how the experiences they had on earth were felt, not by how they felt but by how the person they had interacted with felt. And each review ended with the question, “what have you done with the life I gave you?” The answer seems to be “not enough” as to why they are then sent back to earth. There is unfinished business.

NDE’s seem to affect the rest of their life. Each person is reported to have gone on to live a fuller, more spiritual life that is filled with gratitude, and an understanding that, at the end of their day, they will be living for eternity in a place so beautiful that words cannot describe it. It makes me wish that each of us could have an NDE!

Where Pastor Burke lost me, was when he wrote about the ‘bema seat’. Yes, apparently how well we do in our earthly body, will be judged, and rewarded by God. He quotes scripture to explain his point, (from 1 Corinthians) where Paul compares judgment to building a house. The foundation must be an unwavering belief in Jesus, and on judgment day, fire will reveal what kind of work each builder has done. The more dedication, and unselfishness, the higher the reward.

I’m not opposed to living a life of service and being kind to others. I try to practice that in my every day. But the whole theory of what I did to be judged by the same person that, in different chapters of gospel, teach us not to judge others seems a bit contradictory. Or maybe Jesus is like Santa, “you better watch out, you better not pout, I’m telling you why….” I don’t know why I find being nice for Santa more palatable. Perhaps because Santa judges my year, not my whole life.

And then how does the big guy judge our children? Our loved ones? Did their house measure up in the fire to receive the maximum rewards? This part of Imagine Heaven, I don’t want to imagine. It creates within me, the grief warrior, more what if questions that will keep me up at night.

I waiver around the idea that the ‘good book’ has all the answers. Maybe it contains clues, but a failproof plan I must live by to enrich my extended soul’s life? I like to believe that God knows how hard I try, is part of the group that created my soul plan and that my inefficiencies were part of that plan. To learn and to grow. Not to be judged. The biggest takeaway, from Imagine Heaven, that I will cling to, is that there is a place where I will be reunited with those I love. Especially Zane.