“Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!” they said.
That first year, and second, I heard those heartfelt wishes from my family and friends, knowing they had the best of intentions. I’d smile and say, “Thanks, you too.” That’s all I could manage. I couldn’t even say the words “merry” or “happy” without choking on them.
As a newly grieving mom, those best wishes didn’t make me feel merry or happy. They made me feel unsupported and misunderstood. Invisible, even…
Read MoreI’m a busy person. I do a lot of things. I even do a lot of things for other people, including a few for causes that are important to me, my community, and the world. And I always have. So why have I felt so damned lazy? Why have I told myself, it’s never enough?
At first, I thought it was because I was replaying an old soundtrack that I told myself years ago, when I was in an entirely different situation…
Read MoreThe sun shines through a frenzy of cherry blossoms and long-naked trees are decked out in chartreuse leaf buds. I feel like I can breathe again. And I do, deeply. I breathe in the sunshine and it fills my heart with joy. I breathe out the long dark winter and create room for more sunshine and joy.
And yet I grieve.
This spring, I have a new kitten and a year-old goldendoodle pup. They’re hilarious!…
Read MoreI’ve always been open-minded. The continuation of Spirit; the connection of all things through a Universal energy; the afterlife—seems perfectly probable to me. But I grew up in a family that worshipped science and scorned anything “other worldly”, so it’s not a viewpoint I’ve shared much. Until now.
I choose to believe in life after death in part because of the overwhelming and often inexplicable anecdotal evidence, the personal experiences I’ve had since my son died (of which I’ve had plenty), and also because of a very sound, scientifically-proven reason: it’s good for me…
Read MoreI first heard about the “spiritual principles” when my son, Tristan, was active in Narcotics Anonymous (NA), learning to live in a way that granted him some peace in his daily life. We were both inspired by people who put these principles into practice and how—day after day, year after year, decade after decade—they became the foundation for a life very much worth celebrating. Despite the many challenges that some of these people faced.
Those spiritual principles are…
Read MoreI came to my own recovery sideways and unaware. I was simply following my son, as I always had; hovering behind him, ready to catch him when he fell. Toddler or teen, Tristan was pure energy and adrenaline, running full tilt at life. Until he smacked into a wall. As a teen, that wall was addiction and, despite my hovering, Tristan had fallen hard….
Read MoreI’m writing this in the darkest part of the year. Literally (winter solstice) and emotionally (holiday times are tough for me, in my grief). And I’m thinking about how complicated joy can be.
I never thought much about joy until my son, Tristan, died, just over four years ago and, since then, it’s been quite a journey. I’ve grasped for joy, felt guilty about feeling joy, rejoiced at the power of joy, been grateful for every moment of joy, and have begun—again—to take joy for granted. And I hate that, because taking anything for granted reduces its power to brighten our life, to feel it deeply, and appreciate it fully…
Read MoreRichard Wagamese’s book, Embers, is one of the few books I keep returning to for its accessible wisdom. My gift to you this holiday season, is a sampling of his wisdom. I’ve chosen two of his writings from each of the seven sections in his book: Stillness, Harmony, Trust, Reverence, Persistence, Gratitude, and Joy. May we all carrya sprinkling of these with us wherever we go…
Read MoreI’m heading into my fifth holiday season without my son, Tristan. He died just over four years ago, from addiction and a toxic drug supply. I’d like to say it still hurts, but that’s not quite right. It still crushes me. And I sweep up the pieces and hold them together as best I can as I walk through the season. I try to find enjoyment and connection where I can, and I do. I enjoy my family at Christmas, tremendously, and yet it still feels so damned hard. But it’s easier than it was the first few years. And that ease is, in large part, because I’ve learned to honour and accept my grief, rather than deny or repress it…
Read More
