Hugs and Heaven

imageThe drive in to work this morning had me thinking on what to blog about. Thoughts on grief, what I know about it and what I do not, hugs, silence, an ex-husband alienating his children, a phone call to a lawyer I need to make…I had some nice thoughts strung together and now in my fatigue, I don’t know how this will come out…

The thought bubbles started as I was getting ready for work with my music going and Pink’s Beam Up came on. I love this song. It reminds me of a car ride I had with my kids a few month’s after their paternal grandmother died (December 23rd, 2012). This song came on as we were driving and my son said “This song would be a good song to remember grandma Lynn by, right?” I said “It’s the perfect song” as I fought back tears. He said “Yeah, think so too, it’s going to be her song for me.” She’s also on my mind because I’d like to make a phone call to Heaven to tell her to ‘speak’ to her son. He’s blowing it down here with his babies. She knew how to command a room, put her sons in their place. I think about her passing, I think about the cancer that no one talked about. The liver transplant that wasn’t to be and the trip I did not make to the hospital because my father in law said she was having a good day.

I think about the first time she was admitted to the hospital and I sent her flowers. The phone call at work, the thank you, the you’re the best daughter in law I ever had, you’ve done an amazing job with my grandchildren, thank you, I love you…that moment, those words and I knew the end was near and so did she but we didn’t speak of it. We simply cried. Denial convinced me a liver transplant would come – a miracle.

The phone call from my ex as I walked through the mall – the news as I stood in front of Laura Secord, his tears,  and the bawling as I made my way out of the mall to my car and the it’s Christmas! All of that floods through my mind as the song plays and I wish I could make a phone call to Heaven…

I think about the call I am going to make to the lawyer later in the morning. A call I don’t want to make but I have played the peacekeeper for far too long, I have done the damage control far too many times, I have shielded my children, my ex for far too long and somehow I am the bad guy, I get thrown under the bus. I don’t understand but I cannot defend it or mend it anymore… I don’t own it… I am tired… Why do I have to be Mother freaking Theresa? Kids happiness first, no more shielding, no more tiring myself out for no good reason… It’s time.

I’m back to thinking about death. I’m not being morbid. I’m no stranger to death and grieving, I may not know it on the level some have – death of a child, a spouse or parent… I have had loved ones die, I have had to ponder mortality from a young age… First was my great grandfather he was a special man. I was 7 , that’s when I first learned we are not here forever. I can see my mom and I sitting on the bed and the tears. Next was one of my best friends in grade 3 – this was most shocking. His name was Caleb. He was struck by a car crossing the street to go buy candy at Becker’s. I still see the tree ceremony in front of the elementary school we went to and his father standing there in a trench coat. I remember. My grandmother, my great grandmother (the long walk down the palliative care hall, hearing her breathing from the end of the hall – holding her hand and telling her it was okay to go). I’ve been a pallbearer. I’ve seen the anguish that women in my life had in losing their mothers. Horrifying.

I have been to far too many wakes and funerals for former students.

Offering condolences to parents saying goodbye to their only child as I carry two lives in my belly. I remember being hysterical as I waited in line and telling Robyn “I can’t do it, I feel guilty walking in there with this belly and sobbing and sobbing…” I have sat in an auditorium where the student body was informed of a young man’s suicide. I have sat in the same auditorium and been informed of a twin brother shooting another. The same twin brother I watched beat the living day lights out of another boy and I warned that one day he would kill someone…I’ve never seen rage like that… The list could go on… Each one has affected me..

Of course my own family members have been hardest but I do not handle these things well.

The heart is an amazing thing, so much space for each person we love. Their imprint there forever as unique as snowflakes. No imprint like any other; each with its own unencumbered space. The mind is a vast space as well, storing all of the wonderful memories. Accessible whenever we choose, as frequently as we choose.  Sometimes coming forward unexpectedly…

We should never forget the life that was, we can’t because there’s an imprint on our heart. It won’t allow it and that’s not a bad thing. Nor should we forget and no one who loves us should ask us to.

Do we lose love for the departed? No, a piece of their soul is tattooed on our heart. Can you fall out of love with someone taken too soon? No and nor should you. No one should ask you to. It’s impossible. That love is as unique as the individual. Sacred, to be treasured always.

And if there are children left behind, they will need to know, they will want to be reminded and they should hear and feel that unique love as memories are shared and a beautiful soul honoured. How it should be…

I think a person can fall in love again. Snowflakes…. No two loves are the same and one love does not diminish the other – it is simply unique. What’s the magic number? How long do you wait? Who knows? We never plan these things really… There doesn’t seem to be any consensus on this… Each person will be different. Some may not choose it at all…

I remember my father in law calling me about 8 months after my mother in law had passed away. I hate to put ex in front of their titles, so I won’t… He was taking the kids to the Carp fair and I was driving them to his home in Shawville, so he could take them. He called and nervously told me that there would be a woman with him – my heart pounded hard- and that he thought he should tell the kids. You could hear the fear in his voice. I asked if he’d like me to tell them. I told him I would tell the kids and do my best to ensure it would be a positive meeting. I remember hanging up the phone, going upstairs, having a good cry and then keeping my word. I cried because I can only imagine how hard that phone call was. The fear of judgement…They were okay, they want their papa happy and there will only ever be one nana Lynn…

I remember a conversation I had with Ginger… It’s only natural that some level of comparison would exist in these situations. Her words of wisdom were, “There really is no comparison. Think of it this way…out of all of my friends there is only one you. No one will ever compare to you because you are you. There’s only one Krista.”

I was thinking about hugs again on the way in. Two souls speaking to eachother without words. Handholding and kissing the same language and then I found this…

image

We all suffer loss, we all move through those losses at our own pace…broken but still moving forward…hopefully embracing love if and when it presents…

We all have times where we are simply going through the motions, crossing off days we have survived and then those times turn in to days we cross off in anticipation of beautiful tomorrows…always with imprints on our hearts…….never forgetting…….always loving…

Always alright…

And then there’s Pink, I love her lyrics…