Tag Archives: grief

Be Saying Thanks

My dad continues to amaze me.

In each moment, throughout his grief, he has always been thoughtful of who he needs to say thank you to. He has exemplified gratitude through taking the time to express his heartfelt thanks.

With editing help from myself and my sister, my dad managed to get this thank you into this mornings paper. Incredible!

The hardest part of this process was that he was afraid he would forget to thank someone.

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Today, I am feeling sad but filled with gratitude for all my people in PG, Williams Lake, Summerland,Calgary, Edmonton, Vietnam, Kamloops, Kelowna, Spain, Germany, Cowichan Bay, Dawson City, Vancouver Lumby, Coldstream and here in Vernon where I currently row my boat of grief.

šŸ’“

Be Doing Nothing Special (More Irony)

I ain’t doing nothing special, but God is so present.

I can’t seem to pray or even open my bible or count my thousand gifts.

These rituals used to fill me with joy each morning.

I didn’t do it because someone told me to, I just did it because I could.

Now, I can’t.

I sit in a sacred space.

In grief.

In silence.

Within myself.

God pours himself out.

Through people.

Through nature.

Loudly.

All over and around me.

I watch.

I wait.

I remain open.

To see how he will pick up the broken pieces of my heart and my life.

I receive an email then another.

One says you need to see these lyrics.

Another one says you need to listen to this song.

BOTH SONGS ARE EERILY SIMILAR!

One woman lives in Leduc, the other Oyama.

They don’t even know each other.

How could this be?

God loves.

God lives.

God speaks.

These women listened and acted.

I sure didn’t do anything special.

The irony continues…

Here’s the lyrics and song if you are interested:

The song about oceans…and the lyrics to another song:
In your ocean, I’m ankle deep
I feel the waves crashin’ on my feet
It’s like I know where I need to be
But I can’t figure out, yeah I can’t figure out

Just how much air I will need to breathe
When your tide rushes over me
There’s only one way to figure out
Will ya let me drown, will ya let me drown

Hey now, this is my desire
Consume me like a fire, ’cause I just want something beautiful
To touch me, I know that I’m in reach
‘Cause I am down on my knees, I’m waiting for something beautiful
Oh, something beautiful

And the water is risin’ quick
And for years I was scared of it
We can’t be sure when it will subside
So I won’t leave your side, no I can’t leave your side

Hey now, this is my desire
Consume me like a fire, ’cause I just want something beautiful
To touch me, I know that I’m in reach
‘Cause I am down on my knees, I’m waiting for something beautiful
Oh, something beautiful

In a daydream, I couldn’t live like this
I wouldn’t stop until I found something beautiful
When I wake up, I know I will have
No, I still won’t have what I need

Hey now, this is my desire
Consume me like a fire, ’cause I just want something beautiful
To touch me, I know that I’m in reach
‘Cause I am down on my knees, I’m waiting for something beautiful
Oh, something beautiful

Be Riding the Waves of Grief

Wonderful Counsellor.

Beautiful friends.

Inspired women.

Prophetic words.

I have had the privilege to come across a few women with the gift of prophesy or in my words “a way to speak God’s words into their own life and those around them.” I am truly privileged.

My counsellor, whom I started seeing last winter, has this gift.

Every time that I see her she will share a metaphor about my life and this metaphor will be confirmed by two or more people within twenty four hours.

Here is the latest prophetic instalment brought up by my counsellor and confirmed by Emi and Jenny.

My counsellor was speaking about grief. I heard her say that grief is like an ocean. You are going along on your life path when suddenly tragedy strikes and there lies before you an ocean of grief. The only way to get across it is to row. Sometimes the ocean is calm and other times the waves are rough. Waves can also come out of nowhere. But rowing we must do through tears, sun, love, sadness… You get the picture.

Here’s a photo my counsellor gave me. I am looking forward to a ‘calm’ moment while riding the waves of grief.
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As we row this ocean of grief, I am grateful for God’s presence and the prophetic words of those around me.

This is not the end to my wave metaphor, but only the beginning…

After I returned home, I checked my email. My inbox had a message from my University roommate, Emi, who has paved the path of grief by losing her dad last spring.

Here’s Emi and her dad:

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Here’s what she wrote:

I’ve read through this a few times… Good for thought and much rings true for me…

The link is here BUT this is what struck me: The author is talking about fifteen things they wish they knew about grief.

Number 3 is that grief comes in waves.

Whew, time to lie down, but this ain’t the end.

This morning, we woke up and I dragged myself to cross country ski lessons with the boys. My new motto is fake it til I make it! I shed an ocean of tears behind my sunglasses as I met many friends who had just heard about beautiful mom not joining us up on the ski hill. I was honest and then exhausted.

But God continues to help me walk one step at a time as I ran into Jenny from Elle Mikal. She made the toques for our family. Take a look here and here!

The first thing Jenny said to me is that grief is like a wave. She always thinks about being on a surf board. She told me to grab my bikini to ride the waves.

Riding the waves.

My boys at my side.

Tears falling down.

God is my guide

——-/———/——–/——–/—-/—-

Beautiful photos from Jenny, each with a story I will keep close to my heart.

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Be “Acting Consciously Not Reacting Habitually”

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This is an old photo from 2007 when I was in labour with my first son. I thought of it this week because in my “new life” in our little basement suite 60 kilometres down the lake from our house.

I love exercising and doing yoga makes me feel a re-connection with my body and slows down my sometimes “frenzied” mind.

In the last two weeks, I have attended 5 yoga classes. This is more classes of any type that I have been present at in the last 2 years. In each of these yoga classes, I have experienced the emotions of sadness (yes, I did cry in class), anger, surrender, and learning to trust. Hey, is this the grieving process?

Anyways, last night at yoga, the teacher came out with this comment that we need to “act consciously not react habitually”. Oh man, I am a woman of habit.

I come from a long line of habitual people.

Perfect example: Both of my parents had the same barber/hairdresser for over 30 years! Yup… they both have great hair, but this is a wonderful? habit of going to the same place over and over. The other great? habit that has been handed down to me is being a “Yes” person. My parents try very hard to be good people, to help out and to say “Yes”.

For me in this journey of the last 3 weeks, of moving our family of five, has reinforced to me that not all my habits are healthy and that it is okay to shake things up. I commit to acting more consciously in my life back at home.

And hopefully I can get back into yoga/life shape so that at least I can touch my toes!