Tag Archives: grief

Falling Snow and Fluttering Butterflies (10th Anniversary of the Legacy my Mom Left)

Reliving ten years ago these last few weeks has been a very tender and vulnerable experience for me. I have cried more times than I can count. I have felt so much sadness seeing grandchildren with their grandparents as it has showcased such a profound loss that my sweet boys have endured these last ten years with losing both their Nana and Grandma alongside watching how their Papa’s grieved. I have felt like a failure as I have tried to weather all these big feelings while being a present wife, parent, employee, colleague, neighbour…all while preparing for Christmas. The circle of support around me, again, I have purposely made smaller so that I can show up entirely authentically, just as I am, in this messy human experience that we call grief. (Any other grief sojourners strongly dislike these three words: How are you?) Our golden doodle, Winnie, has been especially close to me, often with her head on my foot (or on my lap when she gets invited on the couch!). 

Today is ten years since I wrote these words below. My mom, aka Super Nana’s, presence is still felt on a daily basis and her legacy truly does live on through our five lives and many others who knew her. For this I am extremely grateful. Thank you to my “salty” friends who have walked these years with us step-by-step in person and with us from afar. You mean the world to us. Thank you to everyone reading my words today, I am incredibly grateful for you.

I love you,

xoxo Joanna

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Crisp fresh fallen snow as I step outside.

20131226-131849.jpg
Dad has been by her side throughout.

He watched her last breaths.

Dad greets me at mom’s door.

There are beautiful butterflies on the door. (This is hospice’s symbol that the room is not to be disturbed).

20131226-131737.jpg
My big cousin by my side.

We step through the door.

Peace enfolds.

Mom is warm and quiet.

She is wearing a shirt with butterflies on it. (I think I need to lie down with all these symbols of snow and butterflies!)

20131226-131811.jpg
Her body is at rest.

Death has come to her body.

Thursday, December 26th, 2013 at 7:00am.

Kisses, kisses and more kisses.

I lay my head in her arm in disbelief.

In peace.

I lap up her presence.

I am enveloped by her love.

Tears slide down my cheeks.

My sister arrives.

We walk to the hospice living room.

20131226-131925.jpg
We light a butterfly light.

20131226-132008.jpg
Place mom’s special card on the mantle.

20131226-132044.jpg
20131226-132118.jpg

M reads Psalm 23.

Dad talks about his sorrow and gratitude.

The boys arrive to an empty room.

20131226-132215.jpg
OC says. “Nana with God.”

A red rose is on the counter.

We say our goodbyes.

On the memory Christmas tree we write Nana’s name and we take an angel home for our tree.

20131226-132254.jpg
20131226-132351.jpg
20131226-132436.jpg

Then we lace up our skates and head out into the outdoors that Nana loved dearly.

20131226-132617.jpg
20131226-132706.jpg
20131226-132714.jpg

I love you mama!

20131226-132822.jpg

Be Having a Transplant after trying some Bandaids

Within the last six months our family’s life has flipped upside down.

🚴🏻‍♀️ This morning on my bike ride, I was thinking about this transformation and the best metaphor that my mind could come up with was living with a really “bad oweee” (or hurt place) and healing it with bandaids versus having a transplant.

Ten years and one month ago we moved to K-City. The boys were almost 2, 4 and 6 years old. The day after we moved, my mom was diagnosed with cancer and I spent the next six months doing all that I could to support her and my dad, while living in a new city with very young children. At this time my family of origin was unravelling before my eyes. I have an older sister and that’s all I would say about that plus a father whom simply wasn’t coping well with a partner who “did it all”, but now was dying before his eyes.

After my mom and Super Nana died, I gained weight and lost it. I was alone and lonely. I taught at an online school, substitute taught at our local public schools, taught physical education and also ventured into the business world as an entrepreneur selling two different products. I supported Sexy Neck as he moved from high school to middle school, to being in charge of an International program an hour away and then our local International program within K-City. Steve’s mom died as well as his beloved grandparents, and uncle. We said goodbye to our sweet Labrador, Summer and said hello to our Goldendoodle, Winter. I did all this on top of taking care of our beautiful, busy, athletic three boys while trying to make friends in a new city, be good friends to those I knew and going through a grieving process that is still often difficult to put into words.

Throughout this last decade, I was using a lot of bandaids.

Bandaid #1: Exercise was one of my favourite. Did you know that I was training for an Ironman when Covid hit? I was training over 20 hours per week during those years after I did a 70.3 triathlon (half Ironman) in 2018. Yup, exercise was a great bandaid for me to keep me going.

Bandaid #2: Busyness – By simply rocking my to-do list, I was able to hold things together. The list was never ending as I did 90% of the things around our home and it made me feel like I was “getting” somewhere, but really getting nowhere. It was just a bandaid.

Bandaid #3: Going down the social media “scroll hole”. I am not sure if this is an entrepreneurial thing, but social media because a bit too much for me throughout the middle part of this last decade. I would spend hours on Instagram or Facebook. I would plan what I wanted to share and it began to takeover my mind in many ways. Sidenote: I am very, very glad that I didn’t live in the era of social media as a teen. I think that would have really messed me up mentally. Comparison is truly the thief of joy.

I am not saying that Bandaids are a bad thing. They got me to where I am today and helped me realize what I wanted my life to look like on a daily basis. I now believe we need to rip these bandaids off to do the true, deep transplanting that our bodies, mind and spirits needs.

Over these last six months, I have gotten a transplant.

Transplant #1: Both Sexy Neck and I have changed jobs. Steve stepped down and I stepped up to serve our schools in unique and fun manners. We are both blessed to be able to serve teachers, students and their families in very interesting ways. It has been transformative for us both.

Transplant #2: We have started to share the responsibilities around the house and the boys are helping more. We are living in the “15 minutes per day” of everyone “helping the family” and we are finding a great rhythm to help our home hum with happiness and peace. It is waaaaaaay better than having one person, namely moi, do it all! Even going through the busiest week of the year last week, we had a tremendous seven days with no major stress or meltdowns. We were “humming”.

Transplant #3: I took social media off my phone and it hasn’t come back on. I barely exist on there anymore and I feel more present and peaceful in my daily life. I hear from friends in different ways now, in a more one-on-one authentic way. I have also let many “friends” go virtually and physically. My heart is happy.

Transplant #4: This summer, we watched our city go through a horrid wildfire where over 200 people lost their homes and our church camp, that the boys were at weeks before, burnt to the ground. This made us reflect on many things, including our physical needs, what we value and our ongoing spiritual life with Jesus.

Transplant #5: Sexy Neck and I joined a gym. We are simply committed to going 30 minutes, 3 times a week. It is a beautiful balance for us to get off the metaphorical treadmill and simply enjoy throwing around some weights and being together. Just like Goldilocks, not too much, not too little, just right. It is a major transplant for two recovering high performance athletes who have gotten grossly “out of shape”.

In ALL ways, physically, mentally, spiritually, emotionally and professionally, it has been a transformative transplant. I feel like the bandaids in all areas of our lives have been ripped off and as a family we are experiencing a “transplant”. There is a newness to our lives, almost like we are moving to Kelowna for the first time, but this time we are healed and whole and not simply living in a deep hole of grief. I am excited to see what God has in store for us in this next decade.

If you are in the state of slapping on some good old bandaids, I hope you know that that works. For the season you are in, the bandaids will hold things together, but hold hope for the transplant. Sitting where I am today, I have to tell you that this is a pretty sweet place to be within my mind, body and spirit. Not perfect, but I feel like I can breathe again.

Bandaids.

Helping

Holding.

Breathe.

Hope.

Newness.

Wholeness.

Transplant.

And that’s all for me on this Sunny Sunday. I pray that you love what you do.

xoxo Joanna

Be Restarting Your Health Journey – vroom vroom

I can count on my left hand those that know that in 2019, before Steve’s mom died, that I was training for an Ironman triathlon. My goal was to swim almost 4 kilometres (2.5 miles), bike 180 kilometres (112 miles) and finish it all off with a Run/walk a marathon (42 kms and 26 miles.). I gave up on that dream when she died and we spent every few weekends in Vancouver for a few months. 

I can count on no hands nor fingers those that know the depth of my physical and mental health struggles the last three years. Here’s the honest truth on what the big picture looked like for me:

🔆 Two summers of not wanting to get out of bed even when the sun streamed in my window. 

💪🏻 Two plus years of sheer willpower and “push” to get off my butt to exercise, which has been a first for me in my entire life. 

🧥700 days of hiding under extra-large clothing, even in 30 degree Celsius weather. 

🙈 700 days of hiding, to be honest. Not wanting to see people, run into people I know or even reach out to friends. 

🙏🏻Tried two different counsellors, neither were a good fit. (or is it “neither was”? hahha)

😩Reached out to no one nor shared with anyone the depth of the pit I felt that I had dug for myself. 

👀The heaviest weight I have ever been in my life, even more than my three pregnancies or after my mom died. (This sure doesn’t feel good!) 

And why I am writing about this now and what changed for me? 

Did I lose weight? Finally found a professional counsellor I could trust?  Started seeing other human beings, outside my work, on a regular basis? None of these things happened for me!  

Four things did changed for me and they all involved random conversations with other people when I stepped outside my four walls. The message I am going to share with my stories is simple: If you relate to any of the six points I wrote down above, don’t wait 700 days to reach outside of your four walls. Right now, listen to a podcast, text someone, go for a walk, ask your neighbour for an egg or simply reach out to another human being in any way that feels good for you. 

The four things that finally helped me make some really HUGE personal shifts took place over a six month period of time. 

First, I have always been someone who listens to podcasts when they do laundry or when I drive or go for a long solo walks. In October, I was introduced to a podcast that began THE shift. Mel Robbins, your twice weekly podcasts have been something that have given me so many tips, moved me to take some small steps and gave me the shovel that started my dig out of my mental and physical hole. Your life journey is powerful and I am grateful that you share with us all. I gave your ideas a try.

Second, in October, I was at my lowest point of this two plus year journey. I was in Vancouver and a friend knew I was in town. We went for a walk and she shared about an App that helped her with her eating habits and overall health. I gave it a try. 

Third, in April, Steve and I were out for our evening walk and we ran into some neighbours.  They shared that they were doing a “Couch to 5km” walk/run program that was simple and tailored to what you want to do. (This was humbling to consider as four years ago, I would run 20 kilometres for fun on a weekend!) I humbled myself and gave it a try. 

Lastly, at the end of April, I was at a teacher’s conference and three of my colleagues were sitting around a table. Suddenly, one of them shrieked about a job that was available at our school and said, “You would be amazing at that!”.  They immediately called over my boss and she wholeheartedly agreed.  I decided to apply. 

In all of these instances, I was showing up in the world as my unhealthiest, unhappiest, down in the lowest point in the second most challenging spot in my life.  (My mom’s death was and is still number one!) 

But, I just showed up and walked. 

I showed up and walked some more. 

And I simply did my job to the best of my ability! 

Now, things are shifting in radical and profound ways (more on that in a later post!). 

Be you. 

Exactly where you are. 

Show up, how and when you can. 

Reach outside those four walls around yours. 

And watch things unfold. 

Let my life be a testimony that there is always hope. 

The best is truly YET to come for me, Sexy Neck and our boys. 

And the best is YET to come for you too! 

Strap yourself in folks for what is to come and love what you do! 

Xoxo Joanna 

Be Framing Your Job with One Thought

 My one thought about my job today: I can be replaced in a minute.  The leadership of my school is so remarkable, I could probably be replaced in less than a minute.

Yes, it’s true for me and for you.  No one is irreplaceable in their work.

I recognized this shortly after my mom died and I fully grasped that she was truly irreplaceable.

Gone forever.

Never to be replaced.

Yes, we have had phenomenal people “fill in the vast gap” my mom left, but no one can restore her place in our lives as a mom and super nana.

A job is a unique arena of life as we all need to find ways to house and feed ourselves, but this great loss made me understand the temporality of work and life.

This morning, I am interviewing for a new job for the next school year. I am taking this mentality into my interview and I feel free.

Free to ponder.

Free to choose.

Free to open the door and see if this new opportunity will help me be a better wife, mom, friend, teacher and human being living on this earth.

Free to live!

So folks, as you ponder this next year ahead of you, what would you change if you knew you could be replaced in your job tomorrow, but never be replaced as a mother, father, daughter, brother, sister, cousin…?

Here temporarily.

Never to be replaced within your “family”.

Have an epic Tuesday and love what you do.

xoxo Joanna

Be Leaning Into Pain and Moving Towards Pleasure

I have had quite a few lessons in life where I have had to lean into pain. How about you? Any pain coursing through your body and mind these days?

As a 15 year old, I had a very close friend who decided to hangout with older friends that partied, smoked and drank. I had to literally walk away from her as we discovered we no longer had anything in common as I pursued my athletic goals and knew that health was my future. It’s painful to lose people who you have been friends with you for years.

As a 21 year old, I was injured in my third year of university volleyball. Right after I hoisted the cup as the captain of my university team declaring we were the best team in Canada, I had to make a choice. I made a very painful decision to retire from volleyball after deciding not to do a surgery with a questionable outcome.

As a 39 year old, I grieved deeply as we moved from Vernon to Kelowna. I said goodbye to my parents living ten minutes away. We lost the routine of preschool pick-up seeing friends who had known us since before we had kids and having the beautiful Vernon Music School and the “Peanut” park just down the road. No longer could we drive 25 minutes up the hill to be at both world class downhill and cross country skiing.

Now in 2023, I am watching quite a few people in pain around me right now: Dealing with deaths, or divorces or illnesses or poor choices by those around them or …. just plain and simple pain.

What I want to say friends is: LEAN IN! Lean fully into the pain. I don’t believe that ignoring it, drinking it away, binge watching netflix or not fully acknowledging pain helps us as human beings in any way. Denial and distraction don’t really help us move through the pain. These two D’s help us get stuck!

Right now, we are personally having to lean into some pain, some uncomfortableness and a lot of uncertainty. I know that leaning into these feelings will help us move towards pleasure and not make any rash decision based on pain.

Not one single decision based on the pain we have experienced have been good ones.

Lean into the pain, then seek the pleasure and run towards it.

Sit against that wall in the darkness and feel that pain going through your body and then know the sunshine of pleasure will be just around the corner.

I have experienced it.

I know it.

I choose it!

Lean into the pain.

Feel it.

Soak in it.

Feel.

Deal.

Heal.

Then you will be able to truly make a decision based out of pleasure and not pain with the added bonus that you won’t make any rash or “bad” decision based on that pain alone, like we have done in the past!

Now, go have an epic Thursday and love what you do!

xoxo Joanna

Be Asking Your Mom Five Questions

I love it when “not-so-random” moments come across my path.

I have been experiencing some deep grief moments about my mom lately as her birthday is tomorrow. She would have been 80 years young this year. Man, she was epic. Did you know that six months before she died she was on a cycling tour in Mallorca riding more than 90 kilometres each day? Did you know that I never cycled long distances with my mom? I took up cycling about two years after she died.

One of the best memories involving my mom was when I was playing in the backyard with our three boys, all under the age of 4. My mom came through the side gate all sweaty and red-faced pulling in her bike beside her. She say, “Hi, I just popped in for some water!” I asked her where she rode today. She stated that she had just ridden to Enderby and back, a mere 70 kilometres (@44 miles) and then went into the house to get some water. She was always doing crazy things like that that seemed like a walk in the park to her. My mom was an exceptional athlete, teacher, friend, mom and so humble too!

Back to the reason for this post: My “not-so random” moment this week was when I stumbled across this article about a daughter who lost her mom and the five questions that she would have liked to ask her.

I have been pondering my own five questions and here they are:

  1. What legacy/memories/values do you want to leave for your grandsons and great-grandchildren? (We will always talk about you Super Nana!)
  2. What did your body go through as you moved through menopause?
  3. Are you afraid to die? What are your thoughts on dying?
  4. What parenting advice would you give me as I move through the different ages and stages with the boys?
  5. What are some of your best memories as a child, other than Jimmy the horse?

And that’s all folks. Be sure to hug those people you love and ask the questions that are on your own heart to the people that matter most.

Have an epic Wednesday and love what you do.

xoxo Joanna

Be Moving Back to Vernon

These last few months, I have been thinking that our family needs to move back to Vernon…. almost ten years here in K-City and, well, I am not sure what to say about it. In the last three months, I have ran into four friends from Vernon at Costco, the ski hill, for walks and I have realized the deepness of these friendships I really miss.

I miss those friends who:

~ knew me before I was a mom

~ knew my own mom

~ I spent time working with and on vacation with

~ walked through years of change involving birth and death

~ did Music classes with me when the boys were in preschool. (Such a sweet season)

Ten years ago we made the decision to move here as Steve was commuting to K-City, 45 minutes away from our house in Vernon, and he was seeing very little of us due to long hours and evening meetings. One day, yup one day, after we moved to K-city my mom was diagnosed with cancer. Five months later she had died.

As I sit down and have a serious conversation with the family about moving back to Vernon, the boys are all a “hard no”. They were 2, 4 and 6 when we moved to K-City and this is really home for them. They have activities they love, a neighbourhood that loves on them and freedom to move around the city with confidence.

And now I remember a story from a wise uncle. Uncle John owned a fabulous apartment near Commercial Drive in Vancouver. He decided that he wanted to live a bit more freely and travel more than he already did. He sold the Commercial Drive apartment and moved into a great rental apartment on Chestnut Street beside the Burrard Street bridge and one block from the beach. His views were incredible and the accessibility to Vancouver was amazing. If I lived in Vancouver, this is the area I would want to live.

Uncle John loved living in this apartment building and weathered the loss of his parents and his sister. His entire family of origin died in a these short few years. Then Uncle John heard that his old apartment was for sale again, after being fully renovated. He jumped at the chance “to go back”. He rebought his old apartment, moved in and realized he had made a terrible mistake. He had bought the apartment “to go back” to a time where his parents and sister were alive. He wanted to truly turn back time. After a few short months, he resold his apartment on Commercial Drive for a second time and again moved back into his amazing rental apartment overlooking the Pacific Ocean. He was really happy and realized that you never can go back.

…and now as I ponder our family moving back to Vernon, his story has become my own. Why do I want “to go back” to Vernon? It is mostly because I want “to go back” to a time when my mom was alive and we had a wonderful circle of support around us. These have been lonely few years that have developed a deep well of resiliency and perseverance on my part raising three young men without that close support and encouragement as a mom. Even today when I receive a compliment on my role as a mother, I am always surprised because it is so rare. It often brings me to tears.

So we won’t be moving back to Vernon. The show must go on in K-City for this mom of three boys now ages, almost 16, 13 and 11. BUT, you never know where we will end up once the boys are graduated and finding their own paths in life.

Have a wonderful Wednesday and love what you do.

xoxo Joanna

Be a Papa Dealing with Death

Death.

Divorce.

Despair.

Distance.

These four D’s that I talked about in my last post can bring us to our knees.

These gifts of grief can also help us rise into who we truly are.

This is what it’s been like for our Papa as he finds a new normal without his beloved wife after 52 years.

The partner Papa loved to share with and bounce ideas off of.

The woman who showered him with food love and a beautiful home.

The exceptional mother of his handsome boys.

The ever present Grandma of his five grandchildren.

Papa could have easily been brought to his knees but he truly has risen.

Going to many of the grandchildren’s events in the last three weeks.

Planning a funeral to honour his beloved wife and my mother-in-law.

Papa has poured out gratitude for everyone’s help.

He has poured out his heart in tears and given himself space to grieve.

May all people deal with grief like our Papa. He is a role model for us all.

Blessings poured over you, Papa, as you walk this journey. We, your fellow grief journeyers, are so proud of you.

Xoxox