At the lowest points in my grieving, I had wanted it to be that way. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much each day. The daily longings for Davis were overwhelming. But I was more terrified of what it would be like if I were to forget him.
Mending grief for ten years has taught me that out of sight is most definitely not out of mind. The memories of my son became vivid. There were daily reminders that he had been a beautiful gift to our family circle. A profound sense of gratitude took hold.
Love is everlasting. He is not lost to me. I hold him closely, deep inside. It’s from this place that I stay hopeful and re-discover who I am. It’s from here that I move forward.
I am a mother who has buried her child. Today is the anniversary day of Davis’ passing. How we long for him! When someone you love is ripped from your life, it leaves you in excruciating pain. The deep feelings of loss never leave you. I allow myself a lot of reflective time around his memorial date; I put myself in God’s care and intentionally rest there. This year, though, I am also wrestling fury with the discovery of 215 children’s graves at the Kamloops Indian Residential School. The red school. That’s what we called it every time we drove by it to go to our favorite lake. It was a huge, imposing red brick building. We moved to Kamloops in 1970. I was always curious about the school and asked people about it but no one ever had much to say. It was a place shrouded in mystery. Now we know why.
He left this world on June 2, 2007. The loss of Davis 13 years ago has allowed plenty of time to reflect. Loss is complex and grieving is an intensely personal & sacred journey. His death shattered me and it took time to find the pieces to rebuild a new picture of life. But loss hasn’t come to mean emptiness. (more…)
I’m reflecting today on goodness, mercy and all the things I am so grateful for. Three weeks ago, my husband received a phone call from a cardiologist following a routine cardiogram (he was born with a heart murmur). He was instructed to stop everything he was doing – we were at an event breakfast – and check himself into Emergency at the hospital. Unknown to us was how life-threatening his congenital heart condition had become! (more…)
Last week, we were heading west on a road trip through the mountains. Along the way were large tracks of land that had been devastated by forest fires. The many shades of green in the forest were in sharp contrast to the stark charcoal matchsticks that were once trees. We stopped at a few viewpoints to stretch our legs and fill our (more…)
I cried myself to sleep after watching the television interviews and reading the news about the Humboldt Broncos hockey team accident. It is a tragedy of mammoth proportion in our neighboring province. The shocking reality is the loss of so many, some just too young yet be taken. They were only beginning to live their dreams. (more…)
Men grieve in more isolation, I’ve observed. There were few men who came alongside my husband as he mourned the death of our son. The positive comments I’ve heard about Nightfall to Daybreak from male readers matters very much to me. Although I’ve written the book as a love song from a mother’s brokenness, the stories have been deeply felt by men. (more…)
January ushers in hope for the months that follow in this new year. Newness feels good. It prompts reflection on the past as I move ahead, anticipating what’s in store. What have I learned? What must I treasure up to build upon? Are there things I need to purge, let go of? (more…)
I had a long checklist going on in my head as I sped down the freeway. Exiting onto the ramp, I was warned by the road sign about the curve I was preparing to negotiate. If I didn’t obey the road sign and slow down my speed, I’d be out of control and have a car accident. Loud and clear. A message about my pace. SLOW DOWN NOW. (more…)
I’ve been watching the sun rise this morning. In its fullness, it appears as a bright red ribbon above the horizon, giving rise to the day. A ribbon is the finishing touch around a gift. Today is that gift, intended to surprise and delight. What will that gift hold? I accept it with outstretched arms. With gratitude.