Tonight at bedtime, we were have cuddle and talk time, like we usually do.
But this evening was quite unusual.
I was lying with seven year old, JC, and three year old OC.
OC snuggled into my neck and licked me. Yup, like a cat.
He started to giggle.
I asked, “Why did you do that?”
Seven year old JC piped up from beside of me, “He is trying to get Nana’s love into your heart?”
Wow! Out of the mouth of boys!
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.
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?
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.
I looked out the car window and saw the sun setting through the cloud. I exclaimed, “A slice of heaven!”
Almost three year old OC said, “Nana in heaven!”
Then we had a family discussion on what being dead means.
OC piped up, “Nana talk to me.”
Our seven year old added, “She talks to me too!”
I asked them what does she say.
OC said, “Night night. From her house in heaven.”
Enough said.
Night night everyone. 
Our garden behind us runs wild like children chasing bubbles.
We are sticking with contained spaces this year.
Big projects cannot be harnessed with our little energy.
The wild garden will be ‘fallow’ this year.
We will still garden though.
The coveted Nana pots are brought out and chosen.
“Boys, take as many as you want.”
Pots and plants are carefully chosen.
Photos taken by Sexy Neck as he fixed the clothes line.
Sitting on the grass.
Soil.
Filling our pots.
Filling our souls.
Watering.
Helping our plants grow.
Helping us go deeper.
The sun.
Oh, the son.
Both lights on this earth.
Ever present.
Holding us together.
Plants in a pot.
Secure.
Protected.
Ah, my sons.
Incredibly hardworking, creative, playful…
Gardener’s that Nana would be proud of.
Planted by CC and JC
Planted by Mama and OC
Haha! I just reread my title, we aren’t growing marijuana, just keep everything in pots.
Yesterday was my beautiful mom’s birthday. When we were away, we felt Nana’s presence and spoke about what we could do to celebrate her birthday.
As a family we decided we wanted to bake her a meringue cake. OC helped me.
Here is the recipe we used:
Our nana loved biking, so we thought a bike ride would be fun.
We ate breakfast for dinner. Breakfast was mom’s favourite meal.
We sent balloons to the heavens.
Lastly, we sang happy birthday and enjoyed Nana’s wonderful cake.
Happy birthday mom! I love you so very much. Your presence is felt more and more each day. You continue to be such a gift and a caring mom.
Heavenward.
Flying.
Sweetness.
Life.
Love.
Peace.
And glory, a new baby girl was born on my mom’s birthday. My cousin’s J and M gave birth on March 30th.
New life.
Gratitude.
Joy.
Anticipation.
Peace.
It was too cold to cross country ski today but it was perfect to watch the Winter Carnival Parade from our favourite Japanese Restaurant in Vtown.
OC even got his wish and saw an elephant. (No, it wasn’t real!)
CC thought he saw Nana down the street and we got to talk about Nana again when an ambulance went by.
Beautiful family morning with Papa and memories of Nana.
Here we are last year enjoying the hot air balloons.
https://beenough.wordpress.com/2013/02/02/be-a-b-watcher/
We missed watching the parade with our Sharpe friends. They now live on the Island and she blogs at http://www.foodiegardeningclub.wordpress.com.
Here’s the conversation we had when two year old OC told me he wanted to call Papa and then Nana on the telephone. Papa was up cross country skiing, so I knew he was out of cell range. My dear, ever-present mom died on Boxing Day.
OC, who do you want to talk to on the phone? (YouTube video link!)
Sweet child working out his sadness of why he can’t call his Nana. These are his very own words.
I was Surprised!
I was humbled!
I am amazed!
I can’t wrap my head around that my mom is dead.
What happened?
I never really understood cancer, how it morphs and changes, how it can consume.
I feel sharp edges of grief.
Rough, hurtful, prickly especially when I think about my mom’s unnecessary pain and hospital stay.
These sharp edges are immediately smoothed over when I hear stories of my mom, our Nana.
Like a soothing balm, these stories cover the edges and ease the pain… until the next wave comes on this ocean of grief.
Last night, we went for a walk to the field at the end of my parents’ street. As we walked, I was remembering walking their with mom, tobogganing, having the dogs out there.
Suddenly JC and CC ran ahead of us, across the field. They sat on two pieces of wood standing up. They sat there for a long time. Then JC called us over. I don’t know what the boys said while they were sitting on those logs, but JC was very clear in what he told me.
“Mom, I sat on those logs with Nana. The last time I had a sleepover by myself. ”
JC was lit up with joy by this simple memory my mom created with him.
Beautiful memory.
Breathtaking sunset.
Thanks mom!
"Be" ENOUGH 