Tag: #zaneforever26 (Page 4 of 5)

The Proof, Written In the Cards

February 18, 2024 / Mama Fish

The hectic, never-ending list to do caught up to me this week and I landed in bed with a cold. I’m not sure if it was that my daughter had it first and I looked after her or that it seems EVERY time my husband goes on a holiday, I get sick. Whatever the reason, I took it as a Universal sign to unplug. Well, not so much a sign, I had no choice. Remaining vertical caused my sinuses to explode so I stayed on my back and went through a box of cards my friends had left behind when they died.

“The sweeties” were the classic love story with a twist. I wrote about them before, and their chosen way to leave earth. It will be a year next month since they departed. The box of cards and pictures was one of the last things I had promised to take care of for them. How to disperse of their treasured memories in a way that honors them. It has been no easy task. They had bins of photo albums of trips and family events and childhood gatherings. We kept a lot. I gave some pictures of their golf buddies to the course they loved and belonged to for years. We mailed some to friends and a bunch to her sister. It was the large box of greeting cards that surprised me how hard they would be to dispose of. I read each one. Birthday cards from friends, get well cards and thinking of you cards but most of the cards were from each other. Every Valentine Day, Anniversary and Christmas card was kept. And each one had the same message. Eternal love.

This couple, with all the trials of combined families and complicated health scares, truly loved each other. Forever. I mean they died together. Reading the cards reminded me of that love. The partnership they held tighter than anything else in their lives. They were soul mates. His signature on every card was “Love your DA” with a heart and kisses drawn. In the early years, the signature and the drawing were clear and as time went on, the signature was messier and the heart not so clear. Still, one can see, his heart was always for her. Her signature, on every card was “Love always, your sweetie.” There was no mistake, they belonged to each other.

I have had mixed feelings about how they left, when they left; the time leading up to their departure was not as ideal as any of us would have liked. This made grief come with mixed emotions, like anger and worry if we did enough or could have done things differently. Alas, there is no options for a repeat, so we continue to grieve while we attempt to answer these questions. The truth is that it was as it was to be. The cards proved that.

In the end, I have two great friends that faced life together, always together, always ‘yours’ and they left here the same way. ‘FOREVER YOURS’. How can I be anything but happy for them? And I am. When I look past the anguish of not having my ‘sweeties’ here to share a glass of wine with me, or to hear their laugh, or hear her tell me, “Love you, love you, love you” …. I just need to remember that I witnessed, a one-of-a-kind love between them. Like all loves, it did not come without its’ bumps and bruises, but the cards reminded me, at the end of the day, they always chose each other.

“How To Fix a Broken Heart” ~Guy Winch

February 11, 2024 / Mama Fish

In honor of upcoming Valentine’s Day, which is also ‘give-a-book-day’, I wanted to share my thoughts on the latest book I read. “How to Fix a Broken Heart” by Guy Winch is a book for those who have suffered from heartbreak. The compassionate psychologist shares the wisdom he has obtained through his practice of the many patients who have come to him to help heal their broken heart and move on.

I found myself nodding in agreement to Guy’s insight of how a physical break (like a broken arm) brings with it sympathy from others and leniency whereas a broken heart does not. The pain of a broken heart is not seen except through tears and sadness to which society endures such feelings for but a short time before we are expected to move on. But heartbreak does affect us physically.

In chapter two, Guy brings to light that our body and mind are broken when the heart has been crushed. In fact, a case study of volunteers undergoing MRIs to scan and record brain activity shows that heartbreak, in the brain, has the same results as unbearable physical pain. He continues, warning us of the actions we partake with heartbreak including fixating on pictures and social media posts, outbursts of anger and irrational actions deter us from healing.

Guy’s remedy for healing includes our culture to better understand, accept and care for those grieving. All true. What I found challenging with his suggestions is that there will some day be a morning where, if all things practiced, I do wake up and am able to move on, leaving the heartbreak behind. This goes against everything else I have been learning, related to finding ways to move forward, not on, with heartbreak. And maybe that simple little word on is where I am stuck.

When living with eternal grief, the idea of one day moving on from it complicates our healing by alluding that we should and if we don’t, can’t or won’t, there is something wrong. It brings guilt. We are expected to move on and here is a man who is agreeing with our pain and the lack of notice society gives it but then is telling us, here are the steps to do just that. Move on. I have chosen never to move on, so the advice becomes mute. To move on would in some way mean that I am leaving Zane behind. Not happening. So, I finish reading this book with a slight bit of apathy. This book does pertain to heartbreak. Just not the type of heartbreak that losing a child carries with it.

Don’t get me wrong, I love the advice and I did realize, looking through the book a second time, that Guy did not suggest the loss of a child is the same as the loss of a pet or a romantic break up. Although we have learned that loss is loss, so that confuses me too. The loss of Zane I will never get over. And frankly, I don’t want to. The loss of Tango is fresh, and I feel I will never get over him. Guy suggests, just by the title of his book, I can. So, at the end of the day, I guess what I have decided is that the caring psychologist has captured heartbreak and its effect on those living with it quite well. And has some wonderful ways to help keep grief in check. And his advice is brilliant if one is suffering a bad romantic break up. It is worth reading. Having said that, I look forward to any possible sequel that supports living an eternity with a broken heart. We move forward with grief; we don’t move on.

I See You Beside Us

February 4, 2024 / Mama Fish

The annual staff party was a highlight of Zane’s. It started with pre-drinks at his friend’s house to which the boss and another friend joined. They would laugh, play video games, and ‘prepare’ for the night ahead. I would drive him over and knew it would be a late-night cab ride home for him. He loved it. The tradition continues and Zane still attends in spirit.

As the favorite video game was played, his boss, yelled out, “here’s the part that I move in and beat Zane. Every time”. He laughs as the game cheers his victory. A toast follows. When I was told this, I could just see them all gathered around the TV, chanting each other on. Including Zane. This is the same group that has adopted the Jameson shot (to be had at every gathering) in honor of their buddy. It has been five years since my son was physically with them and yet, their celebrating him through memories, shared stories, and chatter as if he was here, really brings him here.

In our family, talking about our loved ones who have passed, as if they are still present, is common. We have relatives who have never met my husband’s mother but talk of her as if they had a lifetime with her. I never met her, but I know she and I are friends. I can hear her laugh as she pulls out her next room temperature beer from the carton on the floor. She was golden. She is golden.

Our clan includes family that are here and from across the realm in our daily living. They will forever be family. We celebrate their birthdays with all their favorites, and we speak to them, aloud or through prayer, for guidance. This is the power of storytelling. Of remembering. Of saying their names. We know they are the stars above us that are watching out for us. Still.

My heart is happy that Zane’s boss and his co-workers include him. Through their continued actions, their love of their friend, a culture of respect and inclusion has formed. The idea that Zane is not physically with them is subliminal to the joy he brought and still brings. My son is very lucky to have comrades that refuse to let death separate them.

Break From Current Reality

January 28, 2024 / Mama Fish

Lately my soul has been yelling louder than usual. The stresses of life are paramount and although I would not want to be doing anything differently, I needed a break. So, I ran away to the mountains. With the blessing of my family, I went solo. When I arrived, I had to unpack my overnight bag including the guilt for wanting to be alone. I am complicated. I opened my journal and wrote to Zane.

“I have run away to the mountains. Our refuge. My sis worried why I did, “it’s not like me”, she said. I did feel guilty that I wanted this to myself for a decadent two nights. But it was more a need than a want. My soul is screaming so LOUD lately and I have not had one second of solitude. It is the quiet I need to recharge. I had to go. And the silence of the condo here is blissful. I can feel my heart slow down. Here, my thoughts are realizing that I will get to each of them, one at a time. There is no need for them to push and shove! The mountains are powerful, and I can feel their magic envelop me.”

My stay included listening to my soul and following her lead. I slept in late. I ordered a breakfast smoothie of strawberries and basil. I did a bit of work and then closed my computer and went into town to shop. I lingered. I came back to pour myself a gin and tonic. Not any gin and tonic. The gin was Zane’s favorite. Hendricks. I sipped it as I walked around the trails that we took Tango on. I cried unapologetic tears for the past walks here, that I had with my son and my dog. I cried, for the new walk I was on this moment with each of them in spirit. I took pictures of my moment. I shared them with my husband and daughter, grateful that this moment I am taking they approve of. They wish this for me. It makes me cry harder.

My stay included laughing at a (non-Hallmark) movie, a little condo housework, magazine reading and meditation. All things I have identified as things I need to help me keep friends with my grief. It also included things I didn’t think I was capable of in my emotional state. I ordered take out at a local restaurant and rather than having it delivered, I sat at the bar and waited for it. Something Zane had taught me. He had said, “Mom, if you are feeling insecure going to a bar by yourself, walk in, walk up to the bar, and sit down at the bar. The bartenders like to chat, and you look like you own the place.” I had a wonderful conversation with the young man who took my order, about his life in this town since he moved here in 2005. Thank you, Zane.

The other thing I noticed was as I waited for my dinner order, the music playing was a song that was upbeat, one Zane would play. My family knows that I can’t do music since his death. They politely turn it off when I enter the room as listening throws me into an emotional meltdown. I heard the song, and before I could react, I noticed that my foot was moving to its beat as I gazed at the mountain outside the bar window. I was ok. My boy was with me. So, I listened to it. With no tears but rather a bee bop of head and shoulders as the song played. Yes, I am ok when I am in the mountains. It is where my son lives.

This reprieve confirmed what I already know. One must listen to what one’s soul needs and oblige. For me to be my best for me, my family, my friends, my career, and this earth, I must take time to spend with those I love on the other realm. Each of us needs a break from our current reality to recharge, reflect and redirect. For me, the mountains are calling, and I must go.

Old Blue Eyes

January 21, 2024 / Mama Fish

There was a holiday season, a long time ago, where we visited two friends often. Then health, travel and kids took priority and we saw each other less. Every time we got together it was like picking up where we left off. That is the way of good friends. Time means nothing. Until it does.

The last time I saw our friend, we were walking Tango. He pulled up beside us and we chatted about life, the age of our dog, the battles we all were going through with our health. He was concerned about my cancer; how my recovery was going. He didn’t want to talk about his own battle with cancer. His health “was pickled with the scotch I drink” he’d laugh. His blue eyes twinkled. They were always filled with a light, a love for those around him. It earned him the nickname, ‘old blue eyes.’ “We must get together soon,” I said as Tango pulled on his leash to let me know it was time to keep going. “Yes, we will”, he waved goodbye.

The news of his death came as a shock. It shouldn’t have, but it did. Another friend I somehow felt would be around forever. Or at the very least until we had that next drink we were planning.

His physical absence will be missed by a very large community. His soft demeanour, sense of humor and love for family and friends attracted a big group of admirers that relished in his company. We were lucky to be a part of that. He is the man that sent a card to us, each birthday, death anniversary and holiday of Zane’s, letting us know he will never forget him and how lucky we are to be loved by our son. I treasured his kind gesture, honoring our son in such a tender, personal way. That was so typical of the kindness he showed. He was always just a call away and if the porch light was on, the door was open to come in and enjoy a drink.

His passing hit us all hard. Even my daughter burst into tears. That’s how special he is. That’s how deep the impact of his friendship is. We are taught that grief is the price we pay for love. And as we sit quietly together, grief joins us. And yet, somehow, the love our friend had of this life spills over us, washing us with a sense, a reminder, that the game is not over, only the course has changed.

“In golf and life, it is the follow through that makes the difference.” My sweet friend, you were a sure hit, making a difference as your soul gathered many to enjoy the beauty of this life. May we continue to see you at tee time!

Savoring Tiny Moments of Clarity

January 14, 2024 / Mama Fish

This week has been nothing I had written in my calendar to be. It all changed when I answered the phone to hear the frantic voice of my friend’s son. “Dad went for a walk and got lost. We can’t find him.” The local weather dictates staying indoors and somehow my friend has chosen to go for a walk and is nowhere to be found. This is brain cancer.

His son did find him, and we began to work as a team, spending a whole day in emergency, pleading with doctors, and then working with home care, social workers, lodge staff, trying to put parameters in place to ensure my friend is safe. It has not been easy, and it has been all consuming.

One afternoon, it was just him and I. We talked about doctor appointments and what results we hope for. Memory recall lasts only minutes, so the conversation is repeated. He is so very positive about life, about finding a cure. “One step in front of the other,” he says. I ask him, “have you given any thought to if the doctor says there are no more treatments they can do?” I ask this because we know this is the case. He looks into my eyes, and I gently touch his arm. “Just for a minute, go there and tell me what you think.” He ponders this. I am not sure how much understanding he has about this notion. He looks up and says to me, “well, what will be will be”. I lifted my coffee cup, and we clinked as if to toast the moment.

The doctors have said that the end-of-life stage has begun. But we know better. End-of-life does not exist. It should be defined as end-of-earth. We knew 16 months ago when he was diagnosed that this day would come. Somehow, all that knowledge does not make it any easier for us. And the person who we love we now watch, slowly, losing his brain power, not knowing what is happening in his own life. It doubles the grief.

The days are spent in hyper mode calling the experts, driving to appointments, the worry about support…it makes the time go by fast and at the end of each day, we are more like caregivers than friends and family. My friend senses this. It confuses him as to why we have all these new people coming to visit. Why he must spend time in hospital waiting rooms. Why he must spend the cold weekend at his daughter’s house. He doesn’t understand it is because he can no longer rationalize what is best for his own safety and comfort. This is pre-grief, the early stages where we know the inevitable is near, but we are too busy in the present to be present.

I suggested to his son that we need to focus on the moments of clarity. These moments are few and far between and will continue to become fewer and farther but right now we have these moments. We must stop thinking in these moments of the grief, of the future. We must open our hearts to feeling the moment. Really feeling the blessing of the moment. These moments will become the memories, kept in our heart, for the days after grief arrives to stay.

“Shattered”- by Gary Roe

January 7, 2024 / Mama Fish

If more reading was one of your New Year’s goals, pick up a copy of Gary Roe’s book, “Shattered”.

I am not sure when I read this book or if I wrote about it before. I can’t seem to find proof of either happened. And yet, when I open this book to share, I know I have read and written about it. So, what the universe is doing with tricking me into thinking I haven’t, led me to believe that perhaps there is something about this book that is worth repeating.

What one can expect with this book is truthful, applicable learning of a community who shares grief. Divided into 6 categories, Gary takes the reader through each emotionally charged area with stories, facts, questions to ponder and ideas to try to support your grief.

It is worth a second read and when I reread it, I got even more out of it. Different time, different stage, I leaned into the idea that negative thoughts and self medicating is natural, I don’t have to be brave. I empathized with the parents whose physical ailments are real but the energy to heal is not there. I heard that my anger is about the loss of so very much and most importantly, it is ok to be mad. Mad is good. Mad is about acknowledging the unfairness, the insanity of having to live without the physical presence of our child.

This book is a must read. A repeated read. Gary brings through this book, a reminder that grief is an individual journey, but we are never alone.

Thank you, Gary, for taking the courage to write on a subject that had not hit you directly. Thank you for working with and sharing with all of us, your compassion for our pain. Thank you for identifying the dark feelings our society feels should be ignored or fixed. Some things can’t be fixed. Thank you for reassuring us that we will never be the same and that is ok. Thank you for giving us hope that one day, there might be moments we will not cry in pain but rather in joy.

I don’t believe that I will ever heal, ever get over, ever get pass my loss. But I find a small comfort in the words of others who travel the same path that peace can be found. Gary’s work, and the collected stories inside his book truly support good mourning.

Conversations of New Year’s Eve

December 31, 2023 / Mama Fish

New Year’s Eve always took me along for the ride. When Jon worked, I would drive up to the club to hang out with friends and members, bringing in the New Year with him in between his duties. I grew tired of that and opted to stay home later, spending New Year’s Eve with the dog and a bottle of wine. It was blissful. Payton would want to spend it with us if there was no boyfriend in her life. Zane almost always worked that night but would never miss sending a “happy new year mama” text from wherever he was. Somehow those nights didn’t feel lonely, they felt peaceful.

Our tradition, since Zane was killed, is to spend the evening together, the three of us, huddled in the keg lounge at the ‘early seating’ to enjoy our favorite foods and a great glass of wine. It is a time we talk about what we want in the new year. The conversation is light and enjoyable. We then come home to watch a movie or chat some more…I’m not sure where the endless conversation comes from. But it does and I am grateful. We are all tucked into our own beds before midnight, and I end the night with a meditative visit with my son. As in the past, this year will go something like this.

“I wonder what you would be doing this year”, I ask him. “Probably working”, I hear him laugh. “Really?”, I ask as I run my finger along his picture, “would you not have a day job by now?” I smile at his smile. I continue to talk out loud about what I think I could do to honor him in the upcoming year. “It’s going to be hard to beat your modeling gig of this year.” I wink. “Maybe your photography needs to take a bigger spot.” I watch his face, happy, looking back at me. I can see the twinkle in his eyes. The room is quiet. The nightlight, his nightlight, softly illuminating my room. My thoughts go to what the new year might be like. What worries it will bring. What sadness it will bring. And I send a little prayer to my angels for strength to handle it. And for sight, the ability to see the joy and newness the year also brings. I don’t want to live in the worry. I want to live in the possibility.

As I think of these things and feel the hope of the new year, I notice it is midnight. I close my eyes. “Happy New Year Zane”. “I love you mama,” I feel him say. As was always my reply, I whisper, “I love you more.”

May 2024 be gentle. May it bring with it what each of us needs to relish in this life we have. May it bring supernatural experiences, proof that those we love are chatting with us each and every night.

My Son, Larger Than Life

July 16, 2023 / Mama Fish

Each year since Zane was killed, I have tried to do something to honor him. He has a business degree I advocated for as he was only one semester short of graduating. I started this blog in honor of his love of writing. We have started a mindful photography program and a bursary in his name. What could I do to mark his upcoming fifth year…. five seems like a gigantic milestone.

Then I came across a marketing campaign for Pierson’s Funeral Services. A fresh campaign called “Life by” which posts a larger-than-life picture that captures the spirit of the person. The first one I saw was “Life by Mary”. She was a woman in her golden years in a wet suit on a beach carrying a surfboard. I wanted to know her. She looked like she loved life and would make you laugh. I enjoyed looking for these billboards. Each picture told a story of the person celebrated. So, I reached out to Michael, a friend, and the owner of Pierson’s to discuss an idea.

“What if your campaign also captured those individuals that passed way before their time”, I asked Michael. What might the impact be of someone seeing your ad of a young adult? “If ever that was an idea, perhaps Zane could be a model”, I suggested. And Michael agreed.

He introduced me to (another) Michael, the artistic zealot behind Make More Creative. We talked about Zane and his personality and his antics and the reason why I would like him to be in the campaign. I shared pictures we had of Zane and left Michael to produce his magic. When he called to invite me to his office to see what he designed, I brought Jon, who was unaware of this meeting, and introduced him. I said, “Jon, I would like you to meet Michael, he is Zane’s modeling agent.” Tears of joy followed.

With Payton’s input too, our family selected the picture of choice. When the time came, we were invited for the unveiling. Our son, larger-than-life, covering the entire back of a Calgary City Transit bus! Words are unavailable to describe the emotions that flooded us. The absolute honor, a gift, given to our family to share ‘life by Zane’ with the people in the city that he was born and raised in. A City he loved.

We opted not to tell anyone. We thought what a surprise it would be to have his friends driving along and spot it. Without disappointment, we have had feedback from those who have seen him. “My heart skipped a beat”. “A perfect picture and right at Stampede, his favorite time of year, how cool.”

It has become a game to check the back of the bus passing to see if Zane is there. It is so much fun to be driving and spot him. It feels as if he is in town. That big contagious smile. That happy-go-lucky sense of play captured in a photo and now travelling through town for all to see. I wonder what Zane might say. He was never one that needed to be the center of attention. But he did bring the party and that is the essence one feels when they see my son, larger than life!

Big thanks from my heart to both Michael’s for making this possible. How lucky are we that you two are part of our tribe.

Celebrating You for 31 Years

August 14, 2022 / Mama Fish

Yesterday we gathered in our daughter’s back yard with family and friends to celebrate Zane’s 31^st birthday. I found it hard to smile and celebrate a ‘happy’ birthday to a situation that is anything but happy. Then I read somewhere that birthdays are a way to celebrate the number of years that this person has been. Period. Their birth brought their soul here in a physical form. Death removes only the body. Their soul is still alive and well. It is the soul we celebrate. I liked this advice. Zane was killed at 26 but his soul has been with us now for 31 years.

So, every year I create something that celebrates Zane, a simple activity that his friends can do to help honor his spirit. The first year we handed out pay-it-forward cards, asking his friends to buy a stranger a drink and give the card to the recipient so they knew why they had received a free drink. The second year we wrote wishes on ribbons and tied them to the tree that Zane had planted when he was in grade three. The third year was Zane’s 30^th birthday and we had a bingo game made, each square listing an activity that Zane enjoyed, challenging his friends to complete the 30 squares over the year for Zane. This year with many of his friends now traveling for a holiday or a destination wedding, we bought luggage tags with a picture of Zane, asking them to take “Zane along on their adventures” and send us back a picture, postcard, or sticker. I plan to make a collage of all the places Zane travels in spirit with his family and friends.

In the grief community, honoring is essential to good mourning. It is the way we continue a relationship with our loved ones. It is how we pay respect to their life here on earth. It is how we remember. Sharing these celebratory acts with friends, asking them to be a part of how you honor your loved one, enables us all to feel linked together.

Birthdays are supposed to be personal. We are celebrating a specific person on that day, thus finding ways to honor them that reflects their personality, their hobbies, or desires before they departed is an important way to commemorate them.

Birthdays are difficult, but every day is difficult, so I encourage you to take your loved one’s birthday as a day to smile through the tears and bring what they enjoyed in this life into your life. And to share it. Celebrate who they were, are, and will always be.