Tag Archives: mom

Boys, christmas, God

Be Making and Doing

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After my seminar on surviving the holidays while grieving, I feel free.

I live.

Breathe.

I have.

Freedom.

To choose.

My boys and I sat down. We talked about what we love to do and make over the Christmas season. We talked about many people as well as cookies, puzzles, decorating trees, Jesus’s birthday, sledding, skating, singing and advent calendars filled with chocolate. The most interesting thing is not once was a present or gift mentioned. Not once!

IMG_7330-4.JPGOur Christmas traditions have begun in our new home, one year later than planned but with freedom to choose what we want and my mom’s traditions to carry on.

Quilted tree skirt.

Advent calendars.

Christmas music.

Decorating gingerbread.

Personalized Christmas decorations.

Lights.

Candles.

Love.

Thanks mom. You live on through your amazing thoughtfulness, incredible creativity and pure love for us all.

Joy and grief.

Interconnected.

Mixing together.

In all we make and do.

Family, Grief

Be an Overcomer

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There are some things in my life that bring me to a full sweaty mess.

There are many more things that bring me to my knees in a puddle of tears or a need to vomit.

Tonight it was tears.

I went back to Hospice House where my mom died, with dad at her side, on December 26th.

I felt a pull to go back, but also a humbling fear that brought me to tears. I knew that I needed to do this for myself. I knew I needed to overcome my overwhelming feelings of grief and love, despair and compassion that Hospice House brings up for me.

I drove my car north followed by a bright, clear moon and clean roads, as I did many times last fall visiting mom and dad.

I arrived at Hospice House.

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I entered the very familiar building and went to a chair to await the seminar about grief and the holidays. I tried not to look too hard, but it was the same.

Beautiful spaces

Christmas decorations

Warmth

Love

Healing

I sat. I cried. I listened to great strategies on Christmas in the midst of grief.

I wrote a card with my mom’s name on it and placed it on the memory tree.

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I had some juice and cookies and took a wander down the hall to room number eight.

Yup, it’s still there.

Yup, mom still isn’t.

Unless she’s now a man. A bald-headed one.

Nope, no mom here on earth.

A checked out the fish tank down the hall.

I walked back to the living room and put another name on the tree for my Auntie Gail. I remembered her putting her son, Michael, on the memory tree last Christmas. My cousin was killed in a motor vehicle accident many years ago. I put Michael’s tag on the tree and told him how much his mom loves him.

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And then I walked out.

An Overcomer of my emotions.

An Overcomer of fear.

An Overcomer of doing the hard stuff.

Overcome.

Overcame.

Overcomer.

cancer, Family, Grief

Be Grateful (Thanksgiving 2014)

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Last Thanksgiving, when all was stripped away, my mom
brought us together and she was thankful. Even when cancer was ravaging her athletic body last fall she had us all over for dinner. We even took family photos.

IMG_6576.JPGAnd she showed gratitude at the effort we all made to be together. We were enough!

No complaints.

No ‘I wish’…

Just gratitude for the moment.

And talk about being cold!
(She was SOOO skinny!)

This year for Thanksgiving, I wanted to be somewhere else. I wanted someone to make my mom’s potato romanoff and someone else to shove their hands into a cold dead bird. Perhaps, someone could have organized this brood of boys into a drama troop like mom did in 2013.

Dreams.

Wishful thinking.

Long ago memories.

This year, it was my turn.

No running.

No excuses.

My opportunity to create memories and show gratitude.

I stuffed and cooked a magnificent Turkey. I turned mom’s special potatoes into a soupy disgusting mess. We had gravy, olives and apple pie. My boys played a song on the piano showing their new skills to their proud Papa. We shed a few tears with dad and we were together.

Remembering mom.

Wishing she was here.

Creating memories.

Full of gratitude for all that I can do!

Grateful for those who reached into my grief during another ‘first’ since my mom’s death.

Grateful for every person who has truly shown empathy to my family.

Grateful to be alive with my boys!

Grief

Be Searching for Dawn

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I start pedaling as the moon shines.

Darkness unfolds over me and through me.

The grief is vibrating throughout my being.

Tears come easily.

My heart literally aches.

I don’t know how to live another moment without my mom.
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No recipe for grief.

No instruction manual or no expert that can tell you exactly what your journey will look like.

But I hold closely to my wise counselor’s words: just notice, don’t judge, just sit in it.

So I get on my bike and I sit.

Not responsible for anyone but myself and my grief.

Nowhere to go and no timeline to returned.

So I pedal and I wait.

I wait for dawn to break, hoping that my tears will be dried up by the time I need to return to my life, my beautiful life with my boys, and the wonderful people that surround me.IMG_6508.JPG
I see, now, that grief is no longer the end, it is simply the beginning.

An opportunity to shed unhealthy relationships.

A time to go within myself to look beyond the noise of the day-to-day stuff.

A new life to go deep inside my heart to realize how I want to spend my short time on this earth.

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As I look south to where my dad grieves, where my dear friends live, I know that the darkness in grief is quickly lit up by the light of people that you deeply, deeply love.

This Thanksgiving, I am extremely grateful for every person who has walked through and beside me during this incredibly difficult and rich time.

My tears are now pouring out because of the gratitude that I feel. The sadness is replaced but not gone.

I think I will most likely live the rest of my life a humbled woman who misses her mom.

Kisses. Air hugs. High fives.

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Off to attempt my first Thanksgiving dinner extravaganza. Now that would bring anyone to tears! Thank goodness for supportive Sexy Neck, helpful boys and old neighbours with sage advice.

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Grief, writing

Be Short on Words for Awhile

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Wisdom.

Creating time.

Slowing the flow of input and regurgitation.

Change.

Create openness.

Slowly learning more than I thought I could.

Grief.

Creating space.

Slowly realizing I will live on earth forever without my mom.

Autumn.

Creator brings forth colour.

Slowly coming to peace.

Enfolded in His loving arms.

Surrounded by incredible beauty and colour.

Embracing this season.

With joy.

In tears.

Always with gratitude for life.

Be.

Just being Joanna.

I am enough. IMG_6416.JPG

cancer, Grief, Parenting

Be. Be. Be.

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Be present.

Be listening.

Be open.

What does a mom say when her two year old looks out the car window one Wednesday morning and suddenly yells, “I see Nana in heaven. On the mountain.”?

What do you do that same day when your middle son paints a picture of Nana in heaven? He’s painting her right now.

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And what do you think the next day when you have your oldest son’s friend over and she asks you to put on music and play “It’s a Small World”, my mom’s favourite ride at Disneyland?

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Be present.

Be Listening.

Be open.

I am grateful my children are so assured their beloved Nana is in heaven. I can’t even accept she has died.

I love that my children are so connected to their ever-present Nana that they think to paint her. I can barely look at her photos without being overcome with sadness.

I am blessed that there are so many signs on a daily basis that remind all of us of my mom’s love, kindness and who she was. She was a great human BEing.

Be.

Be.

Be.

cancer, Family, God, Grief

Be Midnight Me

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Last night I wrote the poem below at midnight, not because I wanted to but I am realizing that this is a good time for me to write.

Quiet.

Dark.

Completely present.

Being.

My mind zips along on its hamster wheel of thought.

Writing helps me grab words, themes, feeling and alas the wheel stops.

One year after my mom’s second session of crazy poison chemotherapy, my grief is deep. The benefit of living a year past this moment is that I know the waves won’t consume me, the grief won’t paralyze me and my sleepless nights will end.

Here are my midnight musings:

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Midnight Me

I am a northern girl.

A redneck to some.

I am six feet tall.

A woman.

Imperfectly perfect in His image.

Overflowing with God’s grace.

(Cause He knows I need it!)

I am a Jock.

And an artist.

A mover and shaker.

A beautiful outlaw.

A writer of words.

A bearer of my soul.

A sole bearer.

My heart hurts.

As I ponder.

Watching my best friend.

My mama.

Die.

She has gone ahead of me.

Leading the way to heaven.

My mom’s life and death has re-ignited the gift Jesus gave me at 19.

A reminder.

Freedom to the captives.

Hope.

Grace.

Love.

The rope is frayed.

Split.

Disintegrating.

Nothing holds me back.

Expectations.

Judgement.

To do lists.

I am free!

Glory to God alone who brings freedom to the captives and weaves EVERYTHING together for his goodness.

Boys, God, Grief

Be Holding Tightly to Little Things

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I sense a loosening of many expectations I used to have, a fraying rope.

My grip is also loosening on so many of the things in my own home as I watch my dad go ‘through’ mom’s things.

I am blessed as many of the fantastic clothes mom had fit me. A few of her shoes do too!

I must admit though, that I am holding very tightly to a few little ‘things’: 20140904-225644-82604106.jpgThis is the birthday announcement we put in the newspaper for mom’s 70th birthday on March 30th, 2013.

20140904-225743-82663234.jpgA grocery list from last November.

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The Christmas present tag my mom wrote for me last Christmas. She was very ill before Christmas but she always had her shopping done early!

As I look at the three little pieces of paper I wonder why they are important. I realized it is because they represent the little things.

My mom was excellent because EVERY DAY she did the little things well. She remembered my boys favourite foods and books. She celebrated every little thing – birthdays, first day of school, thanksgiving, Easter, Christmas, plays, practices…. EVERYTHING! My mom always thought of us, how she could help or what she could pick up or when we could get together. Our lives were interwoven. She thought about holidays and how to include everyone. She planned and organized all the details. Mom would often surprise us with beautiful handmade placemats or table runners that she had been working on for months before they were meant to be used.

She was very present for all the little moments. Sometimes, I would walk in my laundry room and find our clean clothes folded. Often she would clean out our hand vac. She always took the dogs for a stroll, just because she liked to think of the little things.

Right now there are a lot of ‘big things’ going on around me that affect our family profoundly (teacher’s strike, mainly).

I am taking a page from my mom’s book of excellence and I am focusing on the little things.